The Dance Of Life
by DeLacus
Summary: "You are nothing short of my everything." Prior the conquering of Baal's Dungeon, a modern woman wakes as a youth within the world of 'Magi.' The eccentric Yunan becomes her distant guardian. Sinbad elicits much of her forbearance and emotions. At least most of her friends are sane, and what was this about trying to outwit the Seer of Kou? SinbadXOC. T/M rating. Many AU qualities.
1. Ugo's Brief Hospitality

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*** Note I – Hello~! \\(*0*)/ This story will span over both _Adventures of Sinbad_ and the main _Magi_ series timelines, as well as many incorporations of my own stuff. Additionally, if you are someone who's never followed my other stories and is new to my writing, I will mention this now: In regards to the romance, my preferred style is a slow-burn, develops-a-good-friendship-first type as I personally find it to be the most enjoyable, emotional, exciting and rewarding type of romance to write . . . Soooo, expect that here. ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

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 **~ 000 – Ugo's Brief Hospitality ~**

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"Never that which is shall die."

~ Euripides

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"Hello, little one."

A city of books was what this gargantuan, foreign place looked like to her. As far as the eye could see, various books, tomes and scrolls were littered throughout the vicinity; she was surprised at the sizes of some of these pieces of literature, as many of them owned a height taller than that of a six-foot human, and a width fatter than a king-sized bed.

 _Where is this . . . ?_

Every sandy light brown surface, every wall, every staircase, every passageway and every column radiated a bright yet tender golden yellow-orange glow from the tranquil light wherein came from above. Small and medium-sized white blobs were also scattered throughout the area. Initially, they looked like mounds of snow . . . Until they proceeded to move about, and many played frivolously with each other. She found them to be a bit creepy; yet after a couple of minutes, she inwardly conceded that they did look somewhat cute – especially the ones that kind of resembled bunnies and cats.

 _I am utterly bewildered . . . What am I doing here? This place looks a bit familiar, but I've never been here before!_

She; or rather, her spirit, was a translucent white and she was speechlessly uneasy when she looked down at herself to realize it.

A gentle, calm voice chuckled. "I see that the Sacred Palace captivates you, quiet one."

Turning around for what felt like the hundredth time, she looked up at a light blue-skinned muscular giant with dark blue chin-length hair, accompanied with somewhat of a long fringe in which covered his third eye that was situated upon the centre of his forehead. Though an attractive giant, she thought that his vaguely big, dark blue-grey doe eyes made him look like an adorable and precious cinnamon roll.

 _No . . . I think I know where this is!_

Sitting cross-legged before her and wearing nothing but a white loincloth, the aforementioned giant – nay, Djinn and Guardian of the Sacred Palace – gazed down at her with a curious expression and a small, warm-hearted smile that instantly dissipated from his face as soon as his new charge awkwardly blurted out his name.

"Uraltugo Noi Nueph."

As she then gasped in shock, a slightly uneasy, albeit curious smile graced the blue being's features. "Ah, I wonder how you know my name. My full name. And please, you may call me 'Ugo,' instead." Fascination swirled within his irises; and a swarm of white Rukh emanating a soft golden glow suddenly fluttered between them, chirping their unique sounds that was unlike any other bird in existence. "What is your name?"

 _No, no, no, no, no! This has to be some sort of dream . . . I can't be in the world of_ Magi! _I died, this– wait. Maybe I did not die? I'm unable to recall . . . I was hurt badly . . . Hmm. I was hurt quite badly and my corporeal body is probably in the hospital, teetering between life and death – which is why I am having this peculiar dream._

 _Seriously; people have weird dreams about the fictional worlds and characters that they have read or watched, so this should be normal . . . Yet it all seems so real._

 _This has to be a dream? If only I can remember what had occurred prior coming here!_

Akin to buzzing flies drawn to a carcass, a plethora of thoughts continued to uncontrollably swarm within her mind. "I am . . . Emilia W-Walker. But, you may call me 'Emilia.'" She procured for him a nervous half-smile.

"Welcome, Emilia, to the Sacred Palace!" Ugo looked to be undeniably mirthful as he stared down at her, and he loosely crossed his large, muscular arms over his abdomen.

Avoiding his expectant gaze for a couple of moments, Emilia rose her translucent head up once again. She then spoke in a more collected tone; after all, this had to be a dream, so why should she assume the worst? "I am from a different world."

Ugo procured an entertained laugh. "Yes, I had assumed as such! It would be rather hypocritical of me to not believe you considering that I, myself, also came from a different world than the one I am currently looking after."

"Alma Torran," Emilia commented with a rather blank facial expression.

"Ah . . ." The Guardian rose a thin, dark brow. "You are not from this current universe and you are most definitely not from Alma Torran, yet you know that place and you know my full name?" he pondered; eager to know.

The newcomer nodded. "There are some similarities in my world, but it's mostly different. I know about you and Alma Torran because –" A bit of anxiety began to fill her. "– I've read a series of books about this universe!" she finished rapidly.

Emilia could not gauge Ugo's thoughts as he merely regarded her silently.

 _I am sorry Ugo; but at the moment, I don't really feel like explaining what manga and anime are, so I am going with "books."_

The woman thoroughly liked and enjoyed the _Magi_ series . . . Yet she did not _love_ it completely – her reason being was in regards to all of that incessant talk about Destiny and Fate; it was taken so seriously by many of the characters, and some of them acted as though they had no choice but to follow said fates.

She mentally smirked. _And then you have Sinbad . . . For fuck's sake, that man eventually married destiny almost the same way that_ A Song of Ice and Fire's _Rhaegar Targaryen eventually married prophecy._

Finally – and with an intriguing smile – Ugo decided to speak: "My world is a fictional story in your world . . . That is fascinating, yet also unsettling."

A vague frown marred Emilia's features. "I am sorry that you feel that way, Ugo."

Almost in a nonchalant fashion, Ugo waved her apology away. "There's no reason for you to apologize – I think I now may know why you were brought here."

Emilia almost scoffed. _'Why I was brought here?' This is just a dream! Fine, because it's a dream, I'll just play along. There is no harm in that._

"I know about the events that had transpired in Alma Torran; I know about Al-Thamen; I've read about the major events that will happen in the future of this current world, and I even know that you have the fetus that is Aladdin hidden somewhere here and protected . . . Unless he has already grown and you've let him out into the world?"

Startled, Ugo's eyes widened. "I am the only one who knows about Aladdin. And no, he is still developing here." After a few seconds, he seemed to be in deep thought.

 _Oh, so this is prior the canon events of the main_ Magi _story?_ The more Emilia talked with Ugo, the more she developed this dismay for the possibility that she really had crossed over to this universe, that the accident that she had in her world was a fatal one.

 _No, why deny me the chance to pass on in peace? I don't want to be reborn or brought over; I refuse to be a pawn to alter future events! Oh, he's frowning now – what is he thinking?_

The ghost of a frown in which was present on Ugo's face now morphed into a small smile and his dark blue-grey eyes held a mix of interest and pity. "I do not entirely know what the future holds; but to bring someone such as you who knows what it shall entail to this world . . . Clearly fate seems to hold a desire to alter certain events."

Emilia wanted to bang her head against one of those light sandy brown pillars. "Sorry, Ugo, but I don't acknowledge the existence of this destiny-fate bullshit." And then she realized that her translucent self was beginning to turn transparent.

"As I can clearly see within your eyes." Now sitting straight with perfect posture, the Guardian of the Secret Palace gazed upwards and stretched out both of his massive arms. Emilia felt herself rising from the shiny, polished floor. "It's time for you to leave. A shame, really, as I would have liked to talk to you some more. Open Sesame!"

On a wall behind her and many, _many_ feet above, a giant door with an eight-pointed star and a myriad of fanciful, ornate designs opened.

"No, Ugo, I don't want to go; please let me stay here!" Emilia panicked with pleading eyes welling with tears. She continued to rise towards the opened passageway.

"Unfortunately, this is not entirely in my control. My condolences, Emilia."

Now twenty feet away from the door, she desperately extended her arms, her hands reaching out towards the gradually shrinking Djinn. "UGO, PLEASE –!" She stopped screaming, for she suddenly felt an odd calm and feeling of safety as the white-golden Rukh fluttered about her, twittering their weird, piercing bird-like sounds. Her right hand warmed as two of the ethereal birds landed upon it.

Ugo now smiled brightly at her and his eyes were filled with a certain tenderness. "Do not be afraid. The Rukh seem to like you and that is a splendid sign. Farewell, Emilia."

 _Damn it, Ugo!_

The doors slammed shut; Emilia's sight blackened, and that was when she came to a realization that this was, indeed, a new reality and that she really had died in her own world: At twenty-five years of age, she had decided to play the hero and save her close friend from said friend's stalker ex-boyfriend. Granted, she could have done it differently, but the situation was so unexpectedly sudden and her reward for that was her throat being slashed open with a knife.

The next time that Emilia Walker regained consciousness, she had already been laid upon a bed and she was in a physical body. Her cheeks were tear-stained; her eyes were blurry and after furiously wiping away a fresh set of tears, she came face-to-face with the surprised expression of the eccentric yet mysterious Magi of the Great Rift: Yunan.

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D Future chapters will definitely be longer, as this is only a prologue and an experimental chapter. :3 And before anyone assumes anything, I will just write this now: I **do not** plan to make Emilia a surprise secret fifth Magi. I have other plans for her~ ***

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	2. Yunan Things

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

*** Note III – Sincere and profuse apologies for the later-than-usual update. I tend to be busy, and work is the number one main factor for said busyness. A more detailed explanation as to why my updates are generally not very frequent has already been typed up around the top of my profile page, so I won't be writing any more here in regards to that . . . And despite that, I still feel bad about not updating a lot. *cries internally* The next couple of chapters should be up soon, though! ***

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 **~ 001 – Yunan Things ~**

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"Death is only a place to rest while we decide where to go next."

~ Anthony T. Hincks

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Her neck throbbed in pain. The room was dark, save for the faint golden yellow-orange glow of a candle within a lantern that was stood upon the wooden sill of a small and somewhat round window.

"Oh, you finally woke up!" Yunan exclaimed with elation. "You slept for two days absent any movement nor sound – I was forced to use my magic to sustain you." A look of determination then sparkled within his light blue eyes. "But I expect you to explain yourself later!"

The first week of the New Year proved to be an interesting one for him: He desired to know why his mind had felt a certain spark, a sudden pressure just when this unknown girl appeared atop the cold, hard earth ten feet away from the door to his small log house. Even the Rukh were frenzied at the time.

Uneasy, uncertain and silent, Emilia Walker shrewdly regarded the Magi of the Great Rift as he was already sat upon a short wooden stool by her temporary bed: Overall, she thought that he looked like he could pass for being a character from _The Legend of Zelda_ . . . Or even an elf from J.R.R. Tolkien's fictional universe, who had somehow stolen Gandalf's big pointed hat and modified it to a much more prettier state. He seemed rather androgynous; and if it were not for his wide, white collar exposing his chest, she would have thought him to be a young woman at first glance. His stunning, long platinum blond hair was vaguely parted down the middle, and it was loosely tied into a single, slim braid that fell over his right shoulder and down the front of his body; seeming to go on indefinitely. He was donned in a loose forest green tunic with subtle yellow-golden trim and vaguely wide sleeves in which came to his elbows. Said tunic was cinched around his waist by a brown leather belt that was knotted at the front. High-waisted, formfitting white breeches were tucked into sturdy, thigh-high brown leather boots wherein also owned an elegantly simple yellow-golden design.

Drawn to Yunan's presence, a large kaleidoscope of the pale gold-glowing white Rukh fluttered for but a moment.

Between his knees, the Magi hugged his tall and thin dark brown staff against his torso; and from the top of it, a few tendrils of slender dark green vine were sprouted. Delicately, they trailed down the length of the wooden object, loosely encircling it. Withal, there was a gold point fastened at the tip of the bottom of said staff.

 _Oh. I really am here. I really am in the_ Magi _world. Damn you, Ugo . . ._ As much as she desired to curse her newfound fate, she did not, for she knew that doing so with such fervour and malice and for a long period of time would eventually stain her Rukh black. She could not afford that at all now that she was in this new world. She refused to fall into depravity and despair.

At least, she would try not to.

She also wanted to face-palm herself hard for her behaviour whilst leaving the Sacred Palace; she thought her pleading was rather pathetic and a bit too desperate, no matter how frightened she was . . .

With a small smile and a thin brow raised in amusement, Yunan waved a slender hand before Emilia's eyes. "Oh, am I _that_ handsome?"

"No!" Flushing a deep shade of red for a moment, Emilia brought the white blanket over her face and under her eyes. She avoided his expectant gaze whilst wondering why her voice had sounded a little more like a girl's rather than a woman's. "Well, sorry; I mean yes, you are good-looking, but –" Her pupils re-met his. "– I just did not expect to wake up in your house."

 _Wake up, wake up . . . Wake up, wake up . . ._

Calm and high-pitched voices resonated into her ears; repeating, "Wake up," like a mantra, and she knew not where their source was.

"Indeed, it would come as a blatant shock to wake up in a random stranger's abode." Yunan procured a light, breezy chuckle. "You have nothing to fear, little one. My name is 'Yunan;' but judging by your reaction, you already know that, do you not? Emilia?"

Said young lady rose her left brow. For the most part, she had liked Yunan from the series, yet she thought that the way he always presented himself as someone who knew everything (regardless if he actually did or did not) was something that she felt was a tiny bit eerie. Lowering the blanket to just under her chin, she pouted. "Yes," she mumbled. "And you know my name . . . How?"

"The Rukh kept chirping it –"

 _Huh . . . That's interesting._

"– and you almost took me by surprise when you merely materialized out of thin air outside of my door," the Magi finished as his delicate fingers lightly tapped against the smooth wood of his magician's staff.

Momentarily taken aback, Emilia blinked. "Well, that is odd."

"Very!" Yunan seemed to own a fascinated disposition despite his response. He then stood with a smile. "I will go prepare some herbal tea downstairs – would you like me to bring it up?"

She procured a small smile. "Oh, no, I should be fine. I'll come downstairs in a few minutes."

"That is good to hear. Incidentally, your clothes are draped over the foot of the bed." And Yunan left; the vague creaks upon the wooden floors gradually fading away.

Oddly enough, she really did feel well; in fact, she felt rather refreshed . . . Then again, Yunan did mention something about sustaining her unconscious self with magic. If anything, she was quite thirsty. And hungry.

Her neck no longer throbbed in pain, but it tingled.

A few Rukh flapped about above her head and across the bedroom, near the threshold wherein led to a flight of log stairs that trailed down. _Otherworlder, Otherworlder . . . Otherworlder, Otherworlder . . ._

A little bewildered, Emilia pursed her lips and her toes curled. _Those voices are the Rukh? I can actually hear the Rukh to some extent? What the hell?_

 _Otherworlder, Otherworlder . . ._

"Oh, please shut up," she mumbled with a strained expression upon her face. "I don't need the constant reminder that I don't belong here."

 _. . . Belong, belong . . ._

Rolling her eyes, Emilia swiftly shot up into a cross-legged position. As soon as the blankets pooled into her lap, a sudden chill claimed her skin, and that was when she screamed. "YUNAN, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

An instantaneously appearing Magi now towered before her; his large and floppy forest green pointed hat perceiving his head as more abnormally massive. "No –"

"Yunan –"

"– swearing –"

"– why –"

"– in –"

"– am –"

"– this –"

"– I –"

"– house!"

"– naked?!"

Following their failed attempt at communication, the man and the young lady merely glared into each other's eyes in silence; neither one breaking contact from the other. She noticed a very slight pout on his face, and his light blue eyes gleamed akin to a child who had just discovered that someone had eaten his last precious slice of cake that he had been saving.

"Wait." With her left hand, Emilia slowly brought the blanket up to her collarbones. "Could you say that again?"

Although Yunan continued to hold her pupils with his, he ceased his glaring and he crossed his arms. "I said, 'No swearing in this house!' It is bad energy, and the plants are sensitive to it."

 _Bloody hell, he sounds like my uncle . . ._ Procuring a quiet sigh, Emilia lowered her gaze; a light pink blush now tinting her cheeks. "And where are the clothes I was wearing before?"

He dared to blink at her in the most innocent of ways. "You came here naked. Excluding those piercings on your ears, there was nothing on nor around you."

Sheepish, she hung her head. _Yunan saw me in the nude. Yunan saw me in the nude. What did I ever do to deserve this torture?_ _ **Yunan saw me naked for fuck's sake!**_

A gentle hand caressed the hair atop her head; and when she looked up with an embarrassed pout, she noticed the platinum blond-haired man smiling down at her. "Come now, little one, it's nothing to worry about. Keeping you under those blankets for almost the entire time, I barely saw anything."

"If you say so . . ." Emilia drawled; believing Yunan as he was definitely not one to lasciviously leer at those who were vulnerable, unconscious and in the nude. She then shook her head. "I . . . I understand and you did act accordingly; it's not your fault that I just randomly appeared naked in front of your house. I am sorry for overreacting – it's usually not like me – and for the swearing."

"It's quite alright. A natural reaction for a child, no less."

 _'Child?'_ She tilted her head to the side in silent confusion. He had referred to her as a "child," and her voice was no longer on the womanly side of the spectrum. She inwardly began to dread. _Please don't tell me . . ._

"Come down once you've clothed yourself." With a light tap of the golden point of his staff against the wooden floor, the Magi disappeared; and after a few seconds, some movement was then heard in the room below.

Now more alert than when she had first woken up, Emilia took a gander around the simple and somewhat darkened room wherein was filled with many books, scrolls and parchments fitted into shelving and strewn upon a couple of dressers and a decently-sized desk. Flinging back the blankets, she swung her legs over and stood upon the floor; stretching out her arms and back in the process before then looking down at herself: She was shorter; her breasts were smaller, and her muscles were not nearly as toned or developed as before. _Yep. I'm no longer twenty-five now, am I? Coming into a new world after death – I daresay it was not guaranteed that I would arrive here exactly the same as I was when I had died._

Recalling what Ugo had mumbled about in regards to him somewhat knowing why she was brought over to this world, Emilia scowled. _No reason, Ugo; someone merely desired to make a mockery out of my death!_

Irate, she took a couple of steps towards a plain, full-body mirror that was in between the bed and a dark brown dresser. A pair of piercing, bright ice-blue eyes upon a girl of thirteen years of age stared fixedly at her. Hair as white as snow delicately fell over her shoulders and down her back; silken, straight and waist-length. Pulling her hair away for a moment, she saw that her piercings were, indeed, still there: A pair of shiny golden rose studs were embedded into both of her earlobes; and slightly away from those – at the top corner of her lobes and just under the bottom of the rim – were a pair of diamond studs, the latter being a gift from her aunt.

Annoyed that she was thirteen again, she was at least grateful that every other physical characteristic stayed the same. Withal, she was overjoyed that she had also retained her twenty-five-year-old mind.

Emilia _tch_ ed when she glanced at her throat, for a noticeable, long pink-red scar was stretched across her neck from ear to ear. "Hm. That'll attract some attention. How troublesome."

 _Attract, attract,_ chirped a couple of Rukh.

Immediately, the girl turned and strolled to the foot of the bed, finding the clothes that Yunan had briefly mentioned about. She donned her bottom in white underwear, soon then wrapping a white breast band around her chest.

 _Hmm . . . As I was leaving the Sacred Palace, Ugo also claimed that sending me here rather than having my soul stay there was not 'up to him,' but, isn't that bullshit? Or at least, somewhat not entirely true? After all of those years in the Palace, didn't he end up becoming some sort of lower-level 'god'; ergo, he should've had some control over having me shoved here or not? Ahhhh, I can't remember!_

In order to properly gauge for herself the current timeline from the manga that she had landed herself in, she made a mental note to immediately ask Yunan in regards to what was now happening in the world. Hopefully, that should assist her in some way. Emilia was the most familiar with the events that had occurred throughout the first two seasons of the anime, as she had watched them thrice – twice when she was younger, and the third time was only one year prior. Because she had only read the manga once, all of the events that had happened after the anime's second season was either a hit or a miss for her. A lot of the information stayed with her, yet there were also parts of the story in which she had either completely forgotten, or was somewhat unsure about.

And then there was the _Adventures of Sinbad_ prequel series . . . She had indulged herself in the anime on Netflix, once. Its' corresponding manga, however, was something that she had opted to wait for its completion before reading it; ergo, it was the time period wherein she was the least familiar with.

The girl bit her lip. In her brief sojourn at the Sacred Palace, Ugo did mention that Aladdin was still somewhere there with him. She pondered on just how many years were left before the beginning of the main series . . . And why, for the love of all things good in this world, was she thirteen again?!

A myriad of thoughts ransacked Emilia's brain as she pulled on a sleeveless white dress with skirts that came to her ankles and a modest, V-shaped neckline. _Ehhh, there is no use in worrying about it incessantly. What's done is done, even if I don't like it. I will just have to deal with it . . . And the horrifying revelation that Yunan saw me naked, even if it was only for a couple of brief moments. Hm. I must try to forget that as quickly as possible._

Lifting up a dark blue sash, she wrapped it snugly around her waist before then tying it into a neat bow at her back. She caught a slight glimpse of a hole in her new dress when she was shoving her feet into a pair of flat black shoes, and when she inspected it, she found that that there were two expertly-hidden slits sewn in either side of the skirt. Most of her left leg poked out through the left slit when she rose it to mimic a kick; and after making a couple more exaggerated movements with her legs, the girl procured a rather mirthful grin: Now this was a dress that would not impede her movements. She absolutely loved it.

"Yunan!" Calming, soft light from multiple candles greeted the snowy white-haired girl's eyes as she sauntered down the stairs; as well as a plethora of potted plants, herbs and cacti that were mainly strewn along the floor, almost touching the light brown walls. A ton of wooden pegs were embedded into said walls, many of them holding both freshly-picked and dried herbs, as well as a few vegetables.

"I see that you're in better spirits now, little one," the Magi's gentle, pleased voice resonated throughout the room. He placed two off-white clay teacups upon his dining table (which was actually one fat, protruding tree stump), along with a matching teapot before then pouring some herbal tea into both of the cups.

"A bit, yes," came Emilia's response as she made her way across a medium-sized, plain yet well-made carpet that was a dark red in colour, accompanied with yellow-gold edging. And then her lips morphed into a small smile. "Thank you for the dress, by the way! I do really like it."

Yunan smiled. "That is good to hear, and I'm pleased to see that it fits well." He lowered himself onto a chair at his "dining table" (which was, like the table, a smaller tree stump that protruded from the ground).

Icy blue eyes took a quick gander at the steaming beverage as their owner joined Yunan on one of his tree stump chairs. It smelled like lemon balm tea. "Too well, actually. You didn't secretly take my measurements, did you?"

His reply was both innocent and nonchalant: "I did."

In less than a second, Emilia crossed her arms over her chest and her eyes widened in shock. "Yunan!"

"Emilia!" the Magi whined. _Actually whined._ "I told you that I barely saw anything! I was focused on the measuring – do you honestly expect me to leave you naked? Or to give you some clothing that is too uncomfortably big for you?" He sipped his tea. "In hindsight, I do apologize for your discomfort."

"No, it's . . . Fine." She gulped down some of her tea after taking in a deep breath to calm herself. "Like I've said before: 'I understand the circumstances.' What you did was appropriate enough," she said, trying to brush off her embarrassment. "I am surprised, though, I didn't know you were pretty good at sewing?"

"I'm not." With his eyes, Yunan gestured to the right side of the wall, where his magician's staff leant against.

"Magic, then?" She cocked her head to the side . . . _Oh, that's right! He's supposed to be really skilled at alchemy, is he not? He should be able to make anything._

He nodded. "See, the first time I had picked up a needle, I accidently stabbed myself so hard that I bled a lot. Since then, I've been relying on my magic for all of my sewing endeavours– why are you laughing?! Is my pain that amusing to you?" he demanded of a tittering Emilia.

"But Yunaaaaaan! How are you supposed to learn with your hands if you give up after the first attempt?"

"Don't make fun of me, you mean child. That incident had brought me such pain!" the Magi whined, and the Otherworlder could have sworn that he looked like he was about to cry.

Smirking, she rose her hands in surrender. "Jeez, fine, then. I'm sorry for poking at old wounds." _Sensitive baby._

Composing himself, he drank some more lemon balm tea. "Apology accepted. Now then, will you please tell me from whence you came from?"

 _Otherworlder, Otherworlder,_ chirped a Rukh perched upon her right shoulder; its' sudden voice almost startling the girl when she glanced at it.

"Ahhh, so you _can_ see them," Yunan perceived with an intrigued smile playing about his lips.

"And hear them." Her pupils re-met his. "Sometimes."

"So the Rukh tell me. I had initially thought that they were merely playing around with me, but you confirmed their words."

"I see. Well, I am not from around here."

"No, little one, you are not." Propping his right elbow upon the fat tree stump table, he rested his chin into the palm of his hand. His smile stayed as he scrutinized her. "You are most definitely not."

 _Stop being creepy, Yunan._ Emilia sighed, a little perturbed. "I'm not from this world."

Yunan chuckled. "I am no stranger to the possible existences of worlds other than the one we are residing in now."

"Like Alma Torran?" She swallowed the remainder of her tea. "May I?" she asked as she gestured to the off-white teapot.

"Allow me." Lips stabilizing at neither smile nor frown, the man sat up straight. He was both fascinated and uneasy. "You are not Torran yourself –" He refilled her cup. "– and are not from this world, yet you are aware of that . . . Unfortunate place? You aren't even a Magi!"

Almost laughing at his expression, Emilia had instead thanked him for the hot beverage. "This world is only a series of fictional stories that were written in my world." Again, she left out the words, 'manga' and 'anime' as she did not yet feel like explaining what exactly they were.

Enthrallment was clearly evident within the Magi's eyes and yet, for some reason, he felt a slight tinge of fear within the pit of his stomach. "And Alma Torran was included in these books?"

"It encompassed a part of them. Most of the story was dedicated to this world's future."

"That is both fascinating yet unsettling. I take it, then, that you also know of Al-Thamen?"

The girl procured a knowing smirk. "You aren't the first to express that," she commented, recalling Ugo's reaction. "And yes. The author of these books detailed them well, as well as what they aim to achieve . . . But you don't need me to continue. You already know of the Organization and of what exactly happened in Alma Torran."

Gulping down the last of his tea, Yunan refilled his cup in silence. He hid his emotions behind a small, neutral smile. "You assume that I already know so much."

"I'm not assuming. I know that you know."

 _Oh? Do you challenge me, little one?_ The Magi frowned at her perceived arrogant-sounding answer. "Yes, I do know."

A vague scent of lemon filled Emilia's nostrils as she brought the cup to her lips; gazing at the blond man with newfound confidence. She held a wicked smile. "You know . . . If you really feel the need to do as such, I'll let you see into my memories. You're quite adept at clairvoyance magic, right? If it'll make you believe me, I am fine with you seeing into my memories of what my life was like in the world I was born in. Perhaps, you may even catch a glimpse of me reading the _fictional_ story that pertains to this world?"

 _This impudent child,_ Yunan thought with somewhat of an entertained smirk. He also found her words to be a little bit of a shocker – what person would willingly share their own precious memories merely to support such far-fetched claims absent any hesitation? Especially when said claims involved knowledge of future events . . . And yet, to Yunan, these claims were not so far-fetched at all. He would be lying if he had said that he had never pondered on the existence of worlds other than this one and Alma Torran. Since she had first opened her eyes, the girl seemed to already be aware of where she was and of who he was. Not to mention that she knew certain things about him, and she did not at all seem surprised at his alchemic abilities via his hinting that her new clothes had been crafted through his magic. When she had informed him of where she came from, the young one had stared directly into his own eyes with such confidence and surety and truth.

And then there were the Rukh, those ethereal birds of light who would always flutter near her. " _Otherworlder,_ " they kept on calling her.

"Yuuunaaaaaan," Emilia pressed; a rather impish half-smirk now gracing her features.

"Stop picking on me, you mean child!" Yunan whined. And this time, with a pout. He composed himself yet again. "Tell me something about myself wherein only I would know . . . And perchance a certain Sacred Palace guardian; but ultimately, something that no one living on this planet would know. I am a secretive man, after all."

Her answer was instant: "Ugo has allowed you to be reborn in the same body and with the same consciousness as your very first life. You're now living your eighth life."

The Magi broke out into lighthearted laughter, all apprehension dissipating from his mind. Rukh happily chirped and fluttered around him. "Oh, there really was no point in hiding any information from you, now, was there? Fear not, little one, there will be no need for some clairvoyance." He took a deep breath to settle himself down. "Only one small correction: I am currently living my ninth life."

A low whistle flew out of Emilia's mouth. "Yeah, you are definitely older than Scheherazade," she mumbled in awe.

The comment caught Yunan's attention. "You know her?" He paused for a moment. "No, of course you would have read of her. You apparently know the future."

She shrugged rather nonchalantly. "Not every little detail."

"Nevertheless, precautions must be made."

The girl scowled. "Yunan, you are not locking me up in here!"

His eyes widened with faux offence. "I have no intention of doing something that drastic. My only suggestion is to never repeat our conversation to anyone else. Blend in with this world."

"Yes, I know; I understand the ramifications of uttering the wrong thing around the wrong people. I'll simply be known as a traveller who came from a peculiar, far-away land that is unknown to all!" Emilia exclaimed her last sentence with dramatic flair. And then her shoulders drooped. _I still can't believe that I didn't stay dead. I should have stayed dead._

Reaching over his table, Yunan brought his hand to her head and he stroked her hair. "I offer you my condolences, if you'll accept them."

Her icy blues met his light blues. "Ah . . . You know how I got here? This scar?" She jabbed a thumb towards her throat.

His expression was solemn. "That does not look like a wound one would survive from."

"It was sloppily done. What followed was the most painful thirty seconds of my life." She bit the inside of her cheek; thinking of her close friend for whom was the original target of said friend's stalker ex-boyfriend. _I dearly hope she managed to get away._

Curiously, her eyes explored the part of the house to Yunan's back, where she found a more kitchen-like area with many wooden cupboards, a long counter, a cooking fire, a large barrel filled with potatoes and much more. All of the windows around the house exposed a black, abyss-like oblivion; but with Yunan around, she felt nothing of it. She did not have to be anxious of what may be lurking outside. "Thank you, though, for the condolences."

"You're welcome, little one." He retracted his hand; feeling genuine concern for her.

The girl then gifted him with a somewhat irritated look. "Could you please stop calling me, 'little one'; I'm not little."

"You are twelve, are you not?" Yunan tilted his head to the side in vague amusement.

"Thirteen!" she blurted out with a slight blush. "And, well, twenty-five at the same time."

"Oh? Do tell."

"I was twenty-five when I died. My mind is still that of my past twenty-five-year-old self, but this body is basically what I had looked like when I was thirteen."

The Magi chuckled. "And is it really such a bad thing?"

"Yes! This is a huge blow to my pride and dignity!" came Emilia's dramatic response. She wanted to face-palm herself against the table.

"Oh, come now! You get to grow up all over again; in a different world, no less. Is that not exciting?"

Furrowing her brows, the girl fixated upon him for a long three seconds. "It is," she conceded, if only a bit reluctantly, "but, I never asked for this –"

"And I never asked for the burdens and responsibilities of that of a Magi," interrupted Yunan in an uncharacteristically harsh tone. Finishing his second cup of tea, he then spoke with a kinder voice, and his eyes gleamed with a certain blithe encouragement: "But I have long since learned to live without dwelling on past sorrows and to accept my fate. I'm now satisfied with my life. No, I'm more than satisfied. I am beyond grateful that I was blessed with the powers of a Magi. I truly love this world, Emilia, and I would hate to see it defiled and destroyed, which is why I . . . I have this desire to be reborn in it over and over again."

"And so you refuse to properly meet death until you see this world being led by the right person; or, at least until Al-Thamen has been permanently removed from it," Emilia presumed as her lips twitched upwards into a soft smile. "That is quite commendable."

A cheery smile was his first response. "Thank you for– wait. You're making fun of me again, are you not?" he accused with a barely-noticeable pout.

She rose her hands in a mock surrender whilst smirking. "No, great Magi, my words and feelings are true. Stop being so sensitive," she huffed.

"I am not sensitive, _little one_."

Her left eye twitched and her smirk dropped when he called her that. "I've one question."

Standing, Yunan picked up his teacup and pot. "Only one?" he pressed; back to his calm yet cheery self. He made his way towards the kitchen area and placed his items atop the counter.

She followed suit. "For now, yes. Currently, what's going on in the world?" She placed her cup beside his after drinking the last of her tea, which was now only a little less than lukewarm. Her stomach procured a low grumble. "I'd like to know where I am in the story's events." _Although, it's now no longer just a story. It is my new reality._

"Are you looking for something specific?"

She looked up at him and pondered for but a moment. "How many Dungeons have been risen so far?"

"Only one: The First Dungeon, Baal . . . Though, I sense that his capture will come soon. Very soon. Does my answer suffice?"

She nodded rather enthusiastically. "It does! Thank you." Her stomach grumbled louder.

 _Okay, then, I'm fourteen years away from the_ Labyrinth of Magic's _events. Great, I just happened to be dropped in the timeline wherein I'm the least familiar with . . . Oh, what am I thinking? I may not be aware of a lot of what's happening right now; but finding out, learning, and exploring should be fun enough._

Crossing his arms, Yunan sighed as though he were a tired parent. "Emilia, why didn't you tell me that you were quite hungry? I cannot have you pass out – you just woke up!"

"Well, I was and then I wasn't because I would not have felt relaxed enough to eat without getting our introductory out of the way first." Not to mention that conversing with him had soothed her sanity.

Yunan merely gave her an unimpressed look whilst inwardly admitting that he should have already known that considering that she had been lying unconscious upstairs for two days and two nights. "You are shaking a little," he stated. "Go sit and I'll prepare something." He strolled to the wall where his magician's staff leaned against. "I tend to cook the same way that normal humans cook in, but considering your state, I'll be having the Rukh assist me for today. It's faster."

Emilia lowered herself on a tree stump chair as the Magi grabbed his staff. His words piqued her intrigue. "Is cooking more of a hobby for you, then?" she asked of him.

"It's my favourite hobby; oh, how I love it so!" he exclaimed with such guileless mirth. "If I was not a Magi, I would have loved to become a travelling chef and food savant. And why are you looking at me like that?"

A smirking girl with impishness swirling within her eyes let out a giggle. "Yunaaaaaaaan," she called out his name in a singsong tone. "One can fall victim to many an accident in the kitchen, especially when they're starting out, do they not?"

"Naturally. I am no stranger to it. Your point is . . . ?"

"Oh, Yunan," she _tsk_ ed. "Considering that, how can you live with yourself knowing that you gave up sewing by hand after one itty-bitty prick?"

"You mean child . . ." An actual tear cascaded down Yunan's right cheek. He bit his lip. "What happened to you that caused you to be so merciless?"

"And what caused you to become so damn sensitive?"

"The plants, Emilia; do not swear in front of my plants nor myself, thank you very much!"

.

* * *

.

The third day after waking up in the _Magi_ universe found Emilia Walker lifting up a somewhat large wooden pail of water from a well from which she could have sworn was put there at some point in time via Yunan's alchemy. There was no way that a well would naturally develop within the area that she was in.

As expected of the bottom of the abysmal pit that was the Great Rift, the air was stagnant and cool. The girl found the darkness to be eerie, and this odd, gooey chill creeped up the length of her spine as her eyes nervously looked about her. The back of Yunan's log house was a most welcome sight. She sauntered towards it; the skirts of her white dress softly brushing against her legs. The cold water sloshed around in the pail she carried.

 _Safe, safe,_ chirped the flittering Rukh.

Although gradually acclimating to her new situation, Emilia could not help but be irate where some things were concerned, and she sorely missed her family, friends and her work life. _I worked very hard to earn my Charted Professional Accountant's designation six months ago. I worked hard to obtain my new position at the Toronto-Dominion Bank two months ago. And here I am now. This is depressing._

Trudging around the side of the house, she was about to make her way towards the front door when she ceased moving. She looked behind her again, her pupils bearing into the never-ending darkness behind Yunan's house and beyond his well. _Huh. The Fanalises are over there; the Fanalises in their true forms . . ._

Tempted to just drop the water pail and break out into a run to see the greater side of the Dark Continent, Emilia ultimately decided against doing that for the time being.

Entering Yunan's abode, she placed the pail on top of the edge of the carpet and by a cactus with pretty bright red flora. She stretched out her arms as her eyes trailed over the back of a sitting Magi, who was using his magic to sew a hole in one of his white undertunics. He had just finished, actually, and now the needle was floating away from him, embedding itself into a palm-sized dark green pin cushion.

As per usual, many Rukh flew around him.

Akin to a curious kitten, the girl batted at the pretty cluster of white feathers that were attached to a circular ruby encased in gold atop his floppy hat. "Yuuunaaaaaaan."

"Stop that," the man chided, albeit with a half-cheery, half-amused smile playing about his lips.

"What's that?" She pointed at a dark brown leather-bound book in which laid upon the tree stump table.

"Your sketchbook." Folding his undertunic, he then looked up at her from his seat. "I have noticed that you've been drawing every now and then on my spare parchment, and so I'd thought to craft you one."

"Oh! Well, thank you."

"And why are you blushing, little one? There's no need to be shy –"

"I am _not_ blushing, Nan." Emilia briefly fanned herself with her left hand.

"' _Nan_?'" He looked to be comically offended.

Smug, she crossed her arms. "Every time you call me 'little one,' I call you 'Nan.' I think it's only fair."

"As you say, then, little one," Yunan reluctantly ceded with a sigh. "Anyways, I've already prepared the fish. I will have you cook again today – you need to get accustomed to cooking and baking using my 'odd and archaic oven,' as you have so eloquently put it two days ago."

The girl snickered. "Well, it is archaic to me." Although, she had to admit that it was not that entirely different from a modern stove and oven.

"That it would be," Yunan replied; recalling two days ago when he and Emilia had a decent conversation in regards to some aspects of her world, and with how despite having more differences, there were still quite a few similarities. Magic may not have existed in her world, but it seemed as though, to him via her descriptions, it was compensated with more advanced sciences and technologies.

He now stood with his folded undertunic in hand; and Emilia lifted the heavy pail of water, immediately then walking to the kitchen at the back of the house. "Later, I'll be teaching you how to wash your clothes and the bedsheets in the 'odd and archaic way of this ancient world,' as you've so articulately expressed the other day," the Magi stated with a humourful smile whilst he strolled to the staircase.

Lowering the pail onto the kitchen floor, Emilia sniggered. "Then I greatly look forward to your teachings." Suddenly, her facial expression morphed into that of a horrified child. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe I forgot!" she exclaimed with a panic as her palm lightly slapped against the side of her head.

A little taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor, Yunan stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. "What is wrong?"

"Yunan, please tell me that you have some spare, unused rags? Cotton, or any material good enough for soaking?"

"I've some upstairs from the fabric that I used to make your dress. What do you need them for?"

"Pads! After I make lunch, I need to sew up some cloth pads."

He was utterly confused. "And what do you need these 'pads' for?"

Emilia huffed. "For my period. I have yet to get mine for this month, but it's only a matter of time," she responded in quite the casual fashion to a blank-faced Magi. "You know – when women bleed a river through their vaginas once a month while feeling like a hundred piranhas may as well be feasting on our uteruses?"

"Yes, Emilia, I have lived a long time. I know how the human female body functions." Sighing, Yunan deadpanned. "I rarely ever meet a girl who would just simply blurt out such private things in a graphic manner to a man, especially to a man they've only fairly recently met."

Considering the time period, Emilia believed him; and although still in a brief panic, she could not help but laugh for a few seconds at his expression and final sentence. "Well, you did ask. So, can I have the rags to make my pads?"

Yunan turned and proceeded to walk upstairs. "Yes, please take them; anything to put a stop to this conversation."

 _Pads, pads,_ twittered some of the Rukh that followed him.

.

* * *

.

Having been born and raised in Canada, Emilia was definitely not accustomed to experiencing July or August weather in the middle of January. Cicadas buzzed their weird sounds in the heat of the portion of the Dark Continent that was just above the Great Rift; yet thankfully, the ample shade of the green forest provided her with a . . . Decent enough comfort. A warm breeze delicately brushed through her long snowy white hair. Birds chirped incessantly; and to her right peripheral, a large kaleidoscope of beautiful sapphire blue butterflies with thin black edging around their wings fluttered hither and tither.

 _Warm, warm_ , peeped a couple of Rukh. _Safe, safe . . ._

For the first twenty minutes after Yunan had left her here to do lord knows what, the girl amused herself by exploring the forest; and for the past forty minutes, she had been sitting atop soft bright green grass with a tree against her back and a book in her lap. Said book was one of Yunan's magic-related texts, specifically one about alchemy. She could see a plethora of his own handwritten notes recorded in ink with the original text – could this perchance be from when the Magi was just beginning to learn such things?

Initially, she was surprised at her ability to be able to read (and write) in this world's commonly written text; then again, why should she be shocked if she was able to communicate with Yunan using this world's Common Tongue? She wondered that since her comprehension of the common language seemed to have switched, does this mean that she was no longer able to read, write and speak in the English language? Inwardly sighing, she turned a slightly worn-out, yellowed page.

From a few feet before her, a platinum blond-haired man with an ankle-length braid materialized out of thin air. "I do wonder, little one," Yunan began cheerily with his staff grasped in his right hand and a handle of a woven basket in his left. "Why do you peruse my books and scrolls on magic if you yourself do not have the makings to be a magician? You know I cannot teach you anything because of that."

Emilia hummed; her ice-blue eyes excitedly skimming over a page. "Yet I read it anyway because it's all very enthralling to me. Unlike in my world, magic is very real here; it's tangible, and it's so diverse. Just because I'm unable to do something does not mean I can't read about its' basic fundamentals and such. If it's intriguing enough, then it's intriguing enough. Besides, some things may actually be quite useful for me to know, like the information on Magoi since everyone here has it."

When she finally looked up, she noticed Yunan gazing at her with a pleased, warm smile adorning his lips. She had always thought that his light blue eyes were really pretty, yet the way that the natural sunlight reflected off of them perceived them as utterly gorgeous. "Did the books foretelling the future of this world not detail the magic adequately?" he asked after a minute.

"There was a lot of information about them, but I can't remember _everything_ if I haven't re-read it many times before. And anyways . . . Living in this world will offer me a hundred times the amount of information." Closing the worn book and nestling it in her left arm, she stood and made her way towards the Magi before then gesturing to his basket. "Oooh, are those apples?"

Akin to a child finding a good piece of chocolate, Yunan procured a bright grin. "I have this need to bake a pie."

"I want to help!"

"Please," came his short and lighthearted response as he turned; and with his charge now by his side, the two of them proceeded to lackadaisically meander around the trees and bushes of the forest.

Fanning herself with her spare hand for a couple of minutes, Emilia was the first to break the tranquil silence: "I've been wondering this since last week when we first spoke, but I am kind of surprised that you didn't ask me anything specific in regards to the future."

"In truth, I probably would have if I was living in my first or second life – or even my third life – but I know better now. I have no intention of asking you what may come to pass; I do not want to know. I will live my life naturally as the flow of my destiny dictates."

 _Destiny, destiny,_ cheeped all of the Rukh within the vicinity.

"I see," she commented flatly; understanding his words whilst trying her hardest to not roll her eyes at his mention of 'destiny.' _Well, that makes it easier on me, so thank you._

His voice calmly floated into her ears: "I was just at the Torran Village, by the way."

Her mouth opened into a wide 'O' shape. "That's where you were? What didn't you take me with you?"

Lips stabilizing at neither smile nor frown, Yunan spared her a glance. "They are, ah, _sensitive_ to outsiders. I am an exception as, for decades, I've been making constant visits to their village, and I meet and share tea with the chief every time. I also assist them with some of their problems, should I happen to be in the area."

 _But the Torran People seemed welcoming and more open-minded to outsiders in the main series . . . Hm. Considering his goal, I wonder if Sinbad had anything to do with it._ She tilted her head to the side. "Are they just not used to them, or are they victims to the occasional group of slavers, like the Fanalis Village on this side of the Dark Continent? Isn't that village somewhat near the Torran's, anyways?"

Nodding to both of her questions, he smiled for the nth time. "However, you are with me . . . I shall bring you there sometime soon."

The powerful humming of a waterfall was suddenly heard nearby and the sun shone brighter (which made Yunan recoil rather dramatically). The forest thinned and, before long, the duo's feet stepped on grassless light brown soil; and many feet away, was the largest rift Emilia had ever seen. A black ocean of shadow stretched on yonder the horizon; northwards, westwards and eastwards.

She let out a low whistle. "Wow. Seeing this in real life rather than in a book is quite something."

"I would imagine so!" Yunan tittered as he stepped towards three naked, brown tree trunks. "We just ran out of firewood and I need to craft a new door, so I gathered these only prior coming to you," he mentioned whilst raising his magician's staff. "Please wait for a couple of minutes."

"Alrighty, then." The girl stood with the book clutched against her chest.

Utilizing his gravity magic, Yunan brought the pieces of wood into the air; and they floated away until they were further out in the distance, hovering just above the blackness. He dropped his arm, and the trunks tumbled downwards, disappearing beneath.

The Magi held out his arm as he turned to Emilia. "Shall we, little one?"

Absent hesitation, she looped her arm around his; and in seconds, they were once again surrounded in darkness with the front of Yunan's home greeting them. The just-thrown tree trunks laid messily by the left side of his house.

.

* * *

.

… _One Week Later_ …

.

* * *

.

Emilia pulled out a couple of toasted loaf slices from Yunan's old-fashioned stone oven; spreading some butter over them and promptly shoving them into her mouth before then peeling two small oranges and eating them as well. She read one of his scrolls about this world's geography, and then a book regarding some lost ancient civilization of centuries' past. She washed and cleaned both of her and Yunan's bedsheets and pillows, hanging the laundry up on clotheslines at the back of the house. She dedicated an hour to practice drawing hands and feet in her sketchbook. Afterwards, she took it upon herself to water Yunan's plants whilst contemplating on how said plants could even stay standing strong if they were not receiving any natural sunlight . . . Eh, he was probably doing something "magic-related" to them.

Such was her Yunan-less day thus far.

It was quiet without him. Then again, it was also quiet with him here (only when she was not teasing him, though), but she at least had someone to talk too. During these times, it was the Rukh who shared her company, albeit she could not communicate with them entirely the same way that Yunan can.

Emilia currently laid upon her back, on top of the Magi's red carpet with her arms and legs spread out like a starfish. Slightly restless, she daydreamed about some of the foods that she had dearly missed eating: Sushi, pizza, chicken and salmon teriyaki, various pasta dishes, avocados, blueberries, kiwi, dim sum, tacos, cheesecake, lemon tarts, chocolate, ice cream, matcha tea, the occasional glass of alcohol; and many, _many_ others.

Suddenly, the Rukh fluttered in a bit of a gleeful frenzy. _Yunan, Yunan! Yunan, Yunan!_

On cue, the front door opened, and the aforementioned Guardian of the Great Rift now towered above her laying form with a strange look marring his seemingly youthful face. "What are you doing down there?"

"Hello to you too, Yunan," came the thirteen-year-old's somewhat impassive greeting. She proceeded to bat at the ends of his braid and the slender, soft white feathers attached to it. "It is surprisingly comfortable."

For the first time ever, Emilia saw Yunan actually procure an eye-roll and that greatly amused her. With a flick of the tip of his staff, she suddenly felt herself floating upwards until her eyes met his chest and her flat black shoes touched the floor. Reaching behind her waist, she adjusted the bow from her dark blue sash. "Oh? Are we going somewhere?"

He smiled; taking her hand when she finished. "Come, little one, we will be visiting a village."

Suddenly, it was hot. Sunlight assaulted her vision and the sweet scent of nature was in the air. Birds chirped ceaselessly, and there was a low hum of a nearby river. The pair were now in the centre of the Torran Village.

 _Torran, Torran,_ chirped the Rukh excitedly.

For the Otherworlder, it was as though she had been transported into a painting that was published in one of her elementary school history textbooks about the North American natives: Surrounded by the trees of the gargantuan forest, stick fences and simple yet well-made tents – or rather, tipis – were littered throughout the large area. Beautifully-crafted and painted totem poles decorated the land; and in the slight distance, Emilia could see parts of a circular, grey stone structure, the architectural style of it bearing a very close resemblance to the Stonehenge. The people of the village owned tan skin of different shades; their hair was of black or dark brown (with a small handful of them owning a more red-brown type); and their eyes were of black, brown, hazel, and the occasional grey. The white or light cream-coloured clothes that they wore were unadorned and their feet were either bare or clad in brown sandals or moccasins. Simple yet well-crafted jewellery adorned their bodies; made of leather string, small beads, and white animal teeth and bones. The people wore a thin strip of dark brown leather around their heads and foreheads, with at least one black-tipped white feather attached to it (some had two, three, or even four or five feathers).

What stood out to Emilia the most was the myriad of blue tribal markings – tattoo or a special type of paint; she could not tell, but she assumed that it was the latter – in which had adorned the peoples' bodies and faces. The men, especially, had slightly more intricate markings along their bare chests, abdomens and backs. Whereas everyone had some personalization to their own markings, they all shared one exact piece: A dot surrounded by a circle upon their forehead almost in between their eyebrows, representing the third eye.

Emilia rose a brow. "Yunan, why are you still holding onto my hand?" she asked with a vague nervousness as a lot of the Torran natives fixed their gazes upon the duo.

The Magi did not answer her, but he did call out a cheerfully polite greeting to the people in the Torran Language.

Many of the people had good-natured expressions as they returned Yunan's greeting, and they all held respect within their eyes – Emilia assumed that they probably already knew that he was a Magi. They barely paid her any heed, though . . . Well, ten of them gave her suspicious, uneasy looks. The rest looked like they were trying not to make eye-contact with her, yet they also seemed curious in regards as to why the Magi was tenderly holding onto this strange girl's hand.

In no time at all, the Torrans returned to whatever they had been doing prior the duo's sudden appearance; and as Yunan pulled the girl along, the peoples' eyes lingered on her back.

…

"So this is your 'precious little one,' as you have mentioned a couple of times during your recent visits," observed the Chief of the Torran Village in Common Tongue as he scrutinized Emilia Walker. In white robes, he was quite the short old man with shiny black eyes and a bald head. His long and insanely thick white beard was neatly combed.

Maintaining a calm expression, the girl had almost shot the Magi a strange look. _Wait, what? "His precious little one?"_

"Yes, this is Emilia," Yunan responded with a pleased, calm smile. "I am grateful of your allowing her to come here." From within the chief's home, he, the girl and said chief all sat on their knees and shins upon a sea of simple, yet lovely and colourful well-made rugs. They were alone within the tipi, save for a Torran warrior who stood tall and proud many feet behind Emilia and Yunan; guarding the entrance.

"If I may speak, Village Chief?" Emilia rose her voice, and when the elder reclined into his nest of pillows and procured a nod, she continued: "Yunan has 'already talked about me' . . . Could you please elaborate?"

"I am pleased to see that she is a well-mannered child," the chief said; facing Emilia after a moment. "Yunan had prior talked to me about the possibility of leaving someone here for a bit of education on combat. Naturally, this surprised me until he mentioned that he had a child; which then furthered my bewilderment as I had presumed that you were of his blood and, ergo, would be a magician."

"The Torran Tribe calls no magician their own; and so if you did have magical ability, I would have taught you myself . . . Chief, you can be a little over-suspicious at times!" Yunan chuckled.

"With good reason, corn-hair!" the chief grumbled; glaring at the briefly pouting Magi before then resting his eyes upon Emilia again. "He described how during his travels, he found you naked and unconscious; that you were from a far-away land that no longer exists."

Frowning, Emilia nodded. "I don't like talking about it, but yes. My home is no more, and everyone else I knew was gone. Yunan took care of me since." She felt the blue-eyed man place a comforting hand against the small of her back.

Yunan smiled a bit on the embarrassed side of the spectrum. "See, little one, I am most unskilled in physical combat. Asking the chief to spare one of his warriors was the most logical way."

"Know this, child," the Torran Chief suddenly spoke in a very firm tone. "The only reason why I had agreed to the Magi bringing you, an outsider, here is because he had claimed you as his child absent any hesitation."

Emilia's eyes widened. _Well, that escalated quickly . . ._ "I understand, sir."

"And his assistance with some of my village's problems have been most appreciated. Yunan, as you are unable to teach your child on how to properly defend herself, I will have one of my best warriors do that for a little while. Tio, come!"

Instantly, the rather intimidating-looking warrior from the entrance of the chief's tipi walked around the fair-haired duo, now standing by the chief's side. The thirty-year-old man was six feet and three inches tall, and strongly-built, with many scars caressing his well-developed muscles. His dark brown hair was short and his hazel eyes were unreadable.

"This is Tio, my nephew, and he will be your instructor," the Torran Chief introduced. "His Common Tongue is not as refined as mine, but he understands it well enough."

Emilia could not understand why her palms were sweating. She was both tense and excited. "Hello, then, Mister Instructor," she peeped.

His response was an expressionless expression to rival all blank expressions. "Hello," Tio forced out after a painfully long ten seconds.

"Well, now, it is time for me to go!" Yunan exclaimed happily. "I shall come by later to bring you home. And remember, little one, _precautions must be made_. Right?"

She merely smirked at his alluding to his previous words from three weeks ago. "Of course, Nan."

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D Soooooo, I've been re-reading _Magi_ to refresh my memory and properly plan out things. Currently, I'm reading the later parts in _AoS_ that I actually haven't read before and holy lemon tarts . . . Is Seto Kaiba– I MEAN BARBAROSSA, _seriously_ becoming _Magi's_ resident Hitler? Because I'm getting those vibes. O.O ***

*** After Note II – My having the Rukh being able to chirp out random words and short phrases in the manner that they have been so far in this fanfic is just this fun little head-canon that I have. Naturally, I couldn't resist writing it in, hehe. x3 ***

*** After Note III – Despite Yunan being a recurring character in _Labyrinth of Magic_ and _Adventures of Sinbad_ , he's more of a minor side character who happens to still be pretty damn mysterious – especially where his background is concerned. Because of that, I will be utilizing the powers of AU-ish fanfiction and fill in some gaps here and there as the story goes on. ***

*** After Note IV – So I generally answer reviews via PM; however, I'll be responding to those who I can't PM here~ :3 ***

…

 **Guest:** Glad you think so~ And yeah – for modern-person/people-ends-up-in-fictional-world fanfiction, I try to write their reactions based on their characters and current feelings, and every person's reaction is different. Thanks very much and I hope you have a great week~! :D

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	3. Thank You, Tio

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

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 **~ 002 – Thank You, Tio ~**

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"Always walk through life as if you have something new to learn and you will."

~ Vernon Howard

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 _". . . And so your life ends being betrayed and killed by your best friend; the man whom you have chosen as your King; the man who has forced you to watch your wife, his own younger sister, be burnt alive at the stake; the man who became fearful of your powers as a Magi, who gradually came to be jealous of his own peoples' admiration of you, and the man who had eventually became paranoid of the false possibly that you may be plotting to overthrow him with your immense power," Uraltugo Noi Nueph finished solemnly with sad dark blue-grey eyes. "And yet, you wish to be reborn in this world in the same body and with the same mind? Yunan?"_

 _Yunan's translucent spirit was bathed in the light of the Sacred Palace. Filled with various emotions, he rose his head; his anguished yet determined eyes fixed upon the Guardian who took the muscular and blue form of a Djinn. "Please, Guardian, it is because of what had happened during my final years upon this earth that I wish to be reborn in it. I want to care for it; I want to see it thrive; to see its' future rulers care for it, and . . . And to see that Organization gone. I doubt that I will live my second life seeing all of these things through, and so I ask a second thing of you: Every time I die, please have myself be reborn in the world over and over again."_

 _Ugo smiled, but it was not a happy smile. He did pity the dead Magi. "You are certain, young one?"_

 _"Very. Please, I beg of you. Send me back down," the spirit pleaded._

 _The Guardian of the Sacred Palace regarded him intensely, reading into this Magi with a newfound interest and hope. "And should you accomplish all that you wish to?"_

 _"Then I will accept death and have my Rukh join my wife's, my parents' and my friends'."_

 _A soft smile adorned the giant's lips, and again, it was not an entirely joyful one. "I will allow it, Yunan." And perhaps, Ugo thought, he may come to be worthy of the knowledge of Alma Torran._

 _Time shall most certainly tell . . ._

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The first thing Yunan saw as soon as he opened his eyelids was a pair of widened icy blue doe eyes surrounded by long and dark lashes.

"Yunan," Emilia began with a touch of concern. She sat upon the edge of his bed. "I have never seen someone look so stressed as they sleep! Are you feeling alright?" It seemed as though she had just woke up as well, for her hair was half-dishevelled, and she was still dressed in her baggy white night-tunic wherein had a collar, buttons and long, baggy sleeves.

"It is nothing of import," came Yunan's half-cheery, half-somewhat groggy reply. His beautiful, long platinum blond hair was unbound as it was splayed across his bed and pillows.

"Are you sure?" she pressed; furrowing her brows.

"Yes, little one, but thank you for your care."

"By the way, can you take me south of the Great Rift? Please? I would like to see the Fanalises in their true forms." The girl seemed hopeful.

Yunan sighed. "No –"

"Why not?"

"'Tis dangerous."

"Not if I'm with you." Her cheeks were a little puffed out.

"Regular humans are not able to go there."

 _I call bull. After the three-year time-skip in the main series, it was revealed that Hakuryuu,_ _ **a regular human**_ _, was hiding out there with Aladdin and Morgiana. Wait, or was he with that ruler from the Kina Kingdom? No, I could have sworn he spent some time in the Fanalis' homeland . . . Damn it, memories, why are you confusing me?!_ Emilia crossed her arms. "I don't believe you."

"Little one, stop, what did I ever do to deserve such an interrogation?!" Yunan whined; his eyes now glazed with tears as he dramatically pulled the blankets over his head.

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The sun played peek-a-boo with the clouds and Emilia felt comfort in the somewhat cool morning breeze.

. . . Or rather, she would have gladly relished in said breeze if she were not focused on trying to stay standing upright from her vigorous run. Breathing heavily and sweating profusely from her endurance training, she clutched her stomach as her heart beat into her ears, and she felt as though she was about to retch and vomit. Her muscles still ached from three days ago, when she had first begun her training with the Torran Chief's warrior nephew. _Do not show weakness; do not show weakness; do not show weakness –_

"Girl. Do you need sit down?" Tio asked in slightly broken Common Tongue in a dispassionate tone; his hazel eyes bluntly challenging her and her resolve. He ran a hand through his short dark brown hair, and his deep voice held an accent. He was barefoot; and like most of the Torran men, his only clothing consisted of a white, skirt-like piece wherein came down to just above his knees and was wrapped around his hips, just half of an inch below the waist. Two slightly curved long daggers hung on the right side of a brown leather belt that was wrapped around his upper hips; and hanging on his left side, was a Roman – well, _Reiman_ – gladius with a white pommel and a dark brown leathery grip. Withal, a bow and a quiver full of arrows were strapped across his back.

"No, I do _not_!" the girl stubbornly blurted out as she attempted to hide her discomfort. If she had said "Yes," he would have harshly berated her for being "weak and useless," as he had done as such multiple times.

The warrior's sudden smirk was almost sadistic as he took a quick gander at her shaking legs. "Good."

The Rukh around her procured high-pitched giggles. Quickly, she wiped her sweaty palms on the skirt of her dress; a new dress that Yunan had crafted for her. Dubbing it her "training garb," it was white, sleeveless and V-necked; however unlike her other one, these skirts did not have slits in them, and they were shorter, they only came down to the middle of her thighs. Using one of Yunan's thin, dark green leather strips, her snowy white tresses were tied up into a high ponytail.

The duo were in a grassy clearing, quite close by to a cluster of medium-sized tipis and a fenced paddock in which currently held a selection of black, brown, grey and white horses. Leaves crinkled in the wind; and in some slight distance away, a few young boys and a couple of girls were practicing their archery.

"Tio!" hailed a male voice from behind; prompting an irritated scowl from the warrior. Such was a common reaction from him: Since taking Emilia under his wing each day from morning until midday, the duo had garnered the occasional observer – usually fellow warriors – here and there. That greatly annoyed Tio, as he preferred solitude, and he would constantly tell these onlookers to go away . . . Which did work most of the time.

Still holding her abdomen, Emilia took a gander beyond her instructor's back. _Oh, thank goodness. I get to catch my breath a bit more without having to ask for a quick break, thus subjugating me with his look of disappointment and disdain._ Tio did have a rather intimidating disposition.

A man – five years older than Tio and slightly shorter than him – now stood by the other's side with an amiable expression upon his face. "Tio –"

"Fuck off, Tono. Busy," came the aloof warrior's reply. Emilia rose an entertained brow.

"Yes, well, you will have to tolerate my presence for a moment," retorted the good-looking newcomer in smooth, unaccented Common Tongue. His black eyes sparkled with amusement and his chin-length, straight dark brown hair fumbled a bit in the breeze. He, the Torran Chief's son, then sighed. "Dearest cousin, do you not think that you are pushing her a bit too much? It's only the third day; ease her into your training methods."

Loosely crossing his arms over his abdomen, Tio's response was flippant: "World's as fair as it's unmerciful. Children made you soft."

Emilia almost smirked.

"Alas; it probably did, but I've no regrets!" Tono exclaimed with a proud smile adorning his face. And then he let out a vaguely exasperated sigh. "Restrain yourself, if only just for a little. Emilia –" He placed a rather gentle hand on her right shoulder. "– is the Magi's adopted child and my father's guest."

 _Yunan's child, Yunan's child,_ chirped the Rukh.

No longer catching her breath as though she were a person who had almost drowned, Emilia smiled. "Thank you, sir, but I should be fine. I have already accepted his challenges." _Yeah, my words are probably going to bite me in the arse, aren't they?_

For a very brief half-second, Tio almost seemed satisfied by her words. "See? No problem."

"'Tono' is just fine in informal situations." The Torran Chief's son returned her smile before then removing his hand and fixating his younger cousin with a stern glare. "It is no problem if she doesn't die from exhaustion. Relax a little; you have time, and she is only thirteen."

Tio maintained his usually unreadable facial expression; yet Emilia could tell, from within his eyes, that he somewhat conceded with his relative. Once again, Tono turned to her. "And how is it going for you? Do you find there to be any problems?"

"No, I think it's going well enough. No muscle cramps at all –"

"Smarter than I thought," came Tio's candid interruption. "Knows stretch first."

The girl shrugged. "I love to stretch a lot – I even fall asleep sometimes in some odd positions. If I may ask something . . . ?"

"Please do," came Tono's amicable reply.

She gestured to her instructor's hips. "I've noticed that a few of the other warriors carry swords, but the people of your culture don't make them, do they?"

Tio's reply was swift as he held a bitter half-smirk: "Reim slavers carry good steel."

"Thought as much."

"Do you disapprove?" came Tono's collected voice.

"Oh, no." With straightened lips, she shook her head. "It is not my place to judge what you do to monsters who happen to wear the skins of humans," she heard herself immediately say before she had a chance to think through her initial thoughts.

"Ha!" A bark of cruel laughter released from Tio's mouth. "Training you won't be waste."

"'Not be a waste' . . . Of time, you mean?" Emilia's brows lowered, and the corners of her lips twitched downwards. "Are you insinuating that I'll have no problem killing people? I've never done as such, and I would rather not ever do it."

"World doesn't give choice, silly girl."

"An excuse. There is always a choice."

"Sure. You die. Or scum dies. Which prefer?" His eyes were hardened as he glowered at the long pink-red scar across her neck.

Tono's vaguely panicked voice broke the tension: "I think that is enough, you two; especially you, Tio." His black eyes held a sudden austerity. "I know that she is not one of us, but she is still so young. Please refrain from picking on children."

Sparing his cousin a brief glare, Tio picked a couple of water skins up from the grass and tossed one to Emilia. "Come. To forest." He turned and proceeded to saunter towards the never-ending gathering of trees.

 _Go, go,_ encouraged the Rukh as a couple of them landed in her hair.

"Ahhh, I wish you good fortune, then, training amidst that wretched cluster of trees," the chief's son expressed with a mix of both horrifying disgust and light amusement sparkling within his dark eyes.

Wiping the refreshingly cool water from her lips, Emilia fixated upon him; unsure. "Thank you, I guess? What do you mean?"

"Do you see how that specific forest trails towards those mountains in the distance? Within it includes a lot of high ground; unpredictable dips and holes in the earth; many rocks and roots that are well-hidden wherein will have one constantly trip, slip and stumble about; many trees that grow close to each other, and I dare not speak of what manner of creature that may be lurking within . . . All in all, quite excellent for endurance training. Try not to break your legs, or anything else." Tono smiled radiantly despite his rather ominous words.

A little perturbed, she gulped. "Oh, alright, then. Good to know," she said quickly before bidding him a polite farewell and immediately jogging after Tio's tall and muscular form. Now two feet from him, she slowed to a walk; her pupils trailing across the blue skin paint that decorated the back of his torso.

Tio's deep voice pierced her ears as her eyes looked over a wide and long scar that stretched from his left hip bone to his right shoulder blade: "Scar. How still alive?"

Her gaze shot to the back of his head. She paused in her thoughts, hoping that her recently-developed and slightly altered story would pass as something that could be possible within this world. "Oh, this happened long before I met Yunan. The slice on my throat was sloppily done, so I ended up struggling for a little over twenty seconds. Within that time, I was saved by this older magician – he was highly skilled in healing magic – and before I knew it, I was no longer dying. And yet a scar remains." She despised having to lie, but so be it considering her circumstances.

The forest was now only a mere thirty feet away. "Girl is lucky," came her instructor's reply after a five-second silence.

Emilia did a little victory dance within her head. _Ohhhh, so I daresay then that this world's healing magic could actually do something like that? Interesting._

"Tomorrow," Tio began, "I take you hunting." The fact that she was unaware of even the basics of hunting – such as how to read the earth and track one's prey – had initially disgusted the seasoned warrior . . . But then he had to remind himself that, according to the platinum blond Magi, she had come from a very different way of living. In her prior situation, she never needed to hunt as she had always purchased her meat from sellers.

The Otherworlder's ears perked up. Or rather, her ears would have perked up if she was a puppy. "Oooh, will you teach me how to use a bow?"

"No, silly girl."

 _Such bluntness._ "So stingy," she muttered with a pout.

Hazel irises instantly met pools of ice-like blue in annoyance. "What?"

Her cheeks were barely puffed up. "So stingy!"

His smirk was almost mocking her. "Torran warriors pride selves on bow most of all." His eyes were shamelessly challenging her. "Prove yourself worthy, _outsider_."

Emilia's eyes twitched in irritancy and her nostrils flared. "Then by all means, Sir Instructor, take me into that damn cesspool of death." She gestured with her eyes towards the forest, and her smile perceived her as unhinged.

Thank goodness she had Yunan to assist her in calming her sanity.

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Villagers called out to each other here and there from either the sandy and grassy walkways, or from the front of their tipis. Children played ever so frivolously as their parents sat and conversed – one of fathers was indulging himself in a little woodcarving of a half-completed eagle. Nearby, a young man made some rather smooth attempts to woo a blushing young woman . . . But she ended up slapping him in the face, anyways. Five tipis away, a group of youths sat, and they were carving arrow shafts, soon then fletching them with white feathers tipped in black. A couple of middle-aged women each carried a woven basket as they entered a cabbage patch. Planning to go fishing, two thirty-seven-year-old men trudged by with a wide canoe carried between them.

No one paid Emilia any heed, though. Some would sneak glances at her at times; immediately averting their eyes once her face came turning around. Emilia could tell that the children were curious about her, and that they wanted to come up to her; however, their parents would prevent them from doing as such. As of yet, the only people who would willingly approach her included Tio, some of the other warriors, the Torran Chief, Tono, and Maire, who was Tio's other cousin and Tono's younger sister.

Five feet away from the closed flaps of the front of Tio's tipi, Emilia sat cross-legged with a half-eaten red apple in hand. The soft green grass tickled her legs.

 _People stare, people stare,_ twittered a few Rukh as they perched themselves in her long hair. _Lonely, lonely?_

"Not really," the girl barely murmured as she took another bite out of her fruit. She did not necessarily care, per say, but the people's stares did make her feel a little uncomfortable, especially when they took ganders at her throat.

Her mouth began to water as the lukewarm breeze suddenly carried a waft of meat that was being cooked nearby. _Mmmmm, meat. I need one of those lambs done in the Mediterranean style of cuisine . . . And some nice, crispy bacon. It's been forever since I've had those!_

A sudden light tug on Emilia's hair returned her from her reverie; and when she craned her neck to look behind her, she saw a six-year-old girl with big brown doe eyes and shoulder-length black hair. "Oh, hello," she greeted with accented Torran Speech.

Innocently joyful, the younger girl beamed. "Hello!" she replied in perfect Torran before continuing to babble. Her little arms flailed about, with one hand gripping onto the older girl's hair and the other one holding a small bouquet of bright yellow dandelions.

With a blank face, Emilia blinked, and she tilted her head to the side before shaking it twice. "Sorry," she began in Common Tongue with a slightly sheepish smile, "I don't know what you are saying."

The child pouted stubbornly; shoving the nicely scented dandelions into her face. She spoke a single word. Emilia blinked silently. The girl repeated that word –

"Oh! Falo . . . Falawer . . . No, flower," Emilia spoke in awkwardly accented Torran, finally correcting her pronunciation.

"Flower!" the girl repeated with a smile, immediately continuing on with her speech.

Emilia could not yet understand the rest of it, but it did come clear to her of the child's intentions. Smiling amiably, she nodded and spoke in Common: "Sure, you can braid those flowers in my hair." Turning her head, she ate the remainder of her apple, and she felt the soft tugs against her scalp as the smaller girl proceeded to happily indulge herself. She could almost feel some of the villagers' burning gazes against her skin, most likely looking for an excuse to ban her from their home. Yunan may have "adopted" her, but she was not him and she was still an outsider; an outsider who just happened to look like she might have some Reiman blood in her.

"Are you done for the day?" floated a feminine voice to her left. A lovely woman appeared by her side; smoothing out her long, sleeveless white dress as she sat on her knees and shins upon the grass. Her smile was welcoming; her eyes were black, and her shiny black hair was wavy and hip-length. She cheerfully addressed her daughter in Torran, to which said child replied before returning her focus to looping a dandelion stem through and around a lock of Emilia's hair.

Emilia smiled. "No, Tio and I are just taking a quick break from training. He did not say where he went, though." Not only had this morning consisted of more endurance and strengthening-type training, but Tio had finally decided to teach her some of the basics of hand-to-hand combat: How to make a proper fist; the proper stances; the proper fighter's posturing, and some actual punches and kicks. As much as she could not wait to continue after her break, she did not want said break to end so soon as she had rarely ever received them. She would have liked the training a whole lot more if she was not constantly feeling as though she were dying.

"Then your break might be extended for bit – Tio was just accosted by some of his friends." Like her father and older brother, Maire's Common Tongue was quite refined; however, like Tio, she held an accent.

"Say what, now? He has friends?" the thirteen-year-old pondered with some lighthearted sarcasm.

The Torran Chief's daughter giggled. "Apparently so! I had thought that the world was on the verge of ending when I had first found out," came her dramatic jest. "But it is good for him, I think. He prefers being alone, but that won't do him any favours."

"I concur." Emilia procured a small, wistful smile; reminiscing about her own friends from her old world.

Ahhh, Tio: Half of the time he was very blunt, neutral, blank-faced and expressionless; and the other half of the time, he was quietly surly, seeming to be subtly angry or annoyed at something Emilia could not fathom. And then, at times, he would perchance crack a smirk, but his smirks were never lighthearted nor in jest – at least, from what she had seen so far. The chief once told her, jokingly, that he apparently owned a rather 'kind' side to him in which one would be considered fortunate enough to see such a rarity, but she has yet to witness that.

The fair-haired girl sighed quietly as her pupils trailed after the playing Rukh. "Has Tio always been like this?" she asked with genuine curiousness, and perchance a touch of hidden concern.

Although Maire's smile continued to decorate her face, her eyes looked to be a bit melancholic. "In a way, yes; however it was not until five years ago that it had started to become a little more 'extreme,' so to speak. He lost his wife in childbirth and his newborn son perished shortly after."

 _Oh, no . . . It's the ultimate nightmare for an expecting father._ Not that dying via childbirth completely ceased in the modern world, but Emilia had rarely ever heard about it. This was a more common occurrence of time's past. "My condolences for your extended family, then," the girl offered respectfully.

Maire thanked her. "I am a bit surprised, though; from what I have seen of you and with the way that you speak, you seem like quite the mature child." She scrutinized her. "Are you sure that you're not secretly a young adult trapped in a little one's body?" The woman ran tender fingers through her little daughter's dark tresses.

Procuring high-pitched giggles, the Rukh chirped funny and nonsensical things.

 _Well, you're not wrong, there. Damn, perhaps I should behave a little more like a young teen? Fuck no. No, no, no, no, no. My pride and dignity will end up nonexistent should I do as such. Besides, she's only joking around._

Emilia chuckled; feeling a couple more tugs on her scalp as the younger girl continued her handiwork on her hair and was now closer to completion. "I merely had an in-depth and extensive education. There are a lot of young people where I'm from who are like that."

Subtly observing the trio's interactions, more so with a focus on Emilia and the chief's little granddaughter; quite a few of the Torran adults from this side of the village proceeded to develop a change of heart. Maybe this outsider was not as threatening to them as they had originally presumed? And perchance it was, indeed, completely safe for them to allow for their children to satiate their curiosity and to go ahead and greet her? Their chief did say with such surety that Emilia was Yunan's child, after all . . .

When Yunan dropped her off within the Village two mornings later, Emilia unexpectedly had the wind knocked out of her as twelve peppy children (all, of which, were under the age of ten) suddenly bombarded her, knocking her to the ground and demanding for this, "weird-looking outsider with 'old people' hair and 'sky' eyes," to go and play with them.

A half-amused, half-terrified Yunan clutched at his heart as he thanked all things holy that the children had decided to innocently assault his ward rather than himself, for once.

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Placing a jar of honey inside one of Yunan's cupboards, Emilia turned to the wooden counter to briefly admire her snack. Upon a white clay plate were red apple slices drenched in honey. _For the cramps, Emilia, for those dreaded period cramps. Oh, my cravings, please be good to me after this!_

The muscles along her arms and legs throbbed in pain from her hand-to-hand training with Tio, and they were littered with bruises. With a metal fork in hand, the girl shoved one honey-drenched apple slice into her mouth, savouring that thick, heavenly golden sweet –

A sudden knock was heard from within the giant barrel wherein always held Yunan's potatoes. Swallowing her snack and rolling her eyes, Emilia placed the fork atop the plate and took three steps towards the aforementioned barrel; immediately lifting the lid and placing it on top of the counter. "Good afternoon, oh great Magi."

A blond head being swallowed by potatoes greeted her. "Little one," Yunan yawned cheerfully from his nap; and Emilia had to admit, he did look like a cute youngster with that face. She was tempted to pinch his cheeks.

"Yes, Nan?" she deadpanned with amusement swirling within her ice-blue irises.

"Could you please prepare some chamomile tea?" A few potatoes shuffled around when the eccentric Magi rose a slender arm to gently rub at his eyes.

"Sure." The girl was trying not to laugh.

"And, when you're done, could you please give it to me in here? I have not yet finished my nap."

Her brows twitched in irritation. "Absolutely not! The last time I did that, you accidently spilled hot tea over yourself, the potatoes and the floor." _And I refuse to have the potatoes succumb to such horrors!_

"But little oneeeeee," Yunan whined with a pout, and the large barrel creaked. "I will be extra careful this time. I shan't make the same blunder twice."

" _No_ ," Emilia pressed.

In an instant, Yunan's expression turned into that of a poised gentleman's. "Then I might just coincidently forget to show you how to prepare cherry pie filling, as I had promised to the other day."

Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

"I would."

 _Anything but the pie!_ Lowering herself into a squat, she was now eye-to-eye with him. "I will make your tea if you stand up from that barrel."

"Then I will be too wide awake to continue my nap."

Standing tall again, Emilia crossed her arms with a slight glare. "And therein lies my next point: You have already napped for almost three hours. Any more will ruin your night's sleep." _Bloody hell, I feel like a mother._

For a moment, Yunan looked like a child who had just had his cookie stolen. In seconds, he fixed his ward with an intensely firm stare. "No tea in my barrel, no cherry pie filling."

Comically irate, the girl bit the inside of her cheek. "Fine. I'll make your damn tea so that you can drink it in your damn potato barrel."

"Much obliged, little one," he replied with jovial faux innocence before then chastising her for swearing.

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A total of two weeks have passed since Emilia began her training with Tio. The final days of January have now moved into the first few of February; yet as expected of the Dark Continent, the weather continued to be that of a more summer-like type. The sun blazed ever so brightly, and the cicadas buzzed and buzzed and _buzzed_ incessantly; irritating the Otherworlder.

 _Thump!_

"Keep going!"

 _Thump!_

"No; more power!"

 _Thump!_

"Use strength from body. Not just arms, remember?!" Tio reminded of a heavily sweating Emilia Walker as she alternated between punching and kicking at a decently-sized target pad. Said "target pad" was that of a ton of dried grass compacted into this big brown-grey sack in which Tio had sturdily tied to the trunk of a tree with rope. The duo were amidst the training grounds, and there were a few other warriors and warriors-to-be honing their skills within it as well.

"FASTER!" her dear instructor barked yet again with his hands on his hips and his piercing eyes fixed on her movements.

Hot, red-faced and huffing, Emilia continued to attack the pad; her high ponytail bobbing about with her movements. Her sweat dampened her short dress and dripped onto the grass; her lower body began to shake; and akin to drums, her heart beat loudly into her ears.

"AH, FUCKING SON OF A WHORE!" came the girl's vulgar cry of pain when she had accidently kicked the target pad with her _toes_. Any harder, and those toes would have become broken. Cursing herself for her blunder, she hissed in discomfort.

"Never toes, silly girl!" Tio berated with a harsh glare. "Always with ball of foot. Heel. Blade of foot. Never toes!"

Absent hesitation, she continued on with her punching and kicking and punching and kicking; never stopping until the Torran warrior allowed for it.

"Better! Faster!"

Her knuckles started to bleed as the skin above them proceeded to peel off, and her legs were now trembling a lot more than before. Suddenly, her peripheral caught sight of Tio making an unexpected move towards her. Sidestepping away from her target pad, she narrowly dodged the scarred man's grasp. He made to grab at her again, but she pivoted to her left and had managed to weakly block his arm.

The back of her throat felt as though it was being scratched at with sewing needles; she would not be surprised if she ended up vomiting at any minute, now. She could barely hear the chirping of the birds and of the Rukh.

Somewhat nearby, three other warriors almost winced as they stole hesitant glances at an obviously struggling Emilia and a ruthless Tio, who did not show any sign of ceasing.

If Emilia was not so exhausted, she would have smirked. From what she could fathom, Tio seemed like he was testing her stamina; testing her ability to dodge and defend herself from a relentless attacker whilst being on the verge of collapsing. _Not bad, if I am to be honest . . ._

Traitorous, a thick drop of sweat sneakily meandered its way into her right eye; distracting her for but a moment as she was this time unable to dodge an almost satisfied-looking Tio, causing her to tumble upon the earth. Panting, she could barely feel the breeze and the heat felt five times more intensified.

Almost collapsing half-way, it took all of Emilia's strength to stand again. She brought her hands up. Tio rose an arm to grab at her for the nth time. Unable to move out of the way, Emilia, instead of blocking his arm, ended up gripping it as tight as she could.

"Tio," the girl feebly uttered his name and her voice cracked. Her nails barely dug into his forearm and her hands shook violently. She felt like she was about to cry and that made her feel ashamed. Her body ached so much; it really, really hurt, and her legs may as well be those of a newborn kitten's.

His other hand gripped her shoulder to steady her, and that was when her legs gave way. She could have sworn that a brief look of worry flashed through the man's eyes as he lowered himself to catch her . . .

 _Wake up, wake up,_ tweeted a couple of Rukh. _Emilia, Emilia . . ._

When she regained consciousness, Emilia found herself to be inside of a somewhat spacious tipi. It was not light inside, nor was it completely dark. Akin to the Torran Chief's tipi, this one also owned a colourful plethora of simple yet well-sewn rugs wherein adorned the entire floor. A thin off-white sheet covered her now-cooled body, and she found herself to be laying on a woven brown mat.

This was her first time inside of Tio's home.

Sitting upwards proved to be an exasperating struggle. Despite no longer being as tired to the point of collapsing, her muscles seemed to twinge in triple the amount of pain than earlier on. Both of her knuckles were bandaged in white cloth, and her hands quivered as the girl reached for a wooden bowl of water that was by her head. Lifting it to her lips also proved to be such an effort; and so wanting to relax her arms again as quickly as possible, she hurriedly drank the cold water, and when she was done, she coughed due to almost choking.

"Silly girl. Slow down." Tio's deep, blunt voice floated into the tipi as he poked his head through the flaps.

Weakly, Emilia regarded him before wiping her lips and placing the bowl upon the rugs. "H-how long w-was I a-asleep for?" her voice faltered a bit due to her state.

"Three hours."

A barely-noticeable frown marred her face – there was only one hour left before this morning's training session was done. "For w-wasting time, I a-am sorry –"

"No. Rest," Tio interrupted very firmly as he strolled into his home and sat on his knees and shins a few feet away from her; moving the bowl away to the side. "You no reason to be sorry." His eyes held a bit of genuine concern . . . And even a very slight tinge of remorse coupled with some disgust at himself? Well, that was a new look for him . . .

And then, to her blatant surprise, the warrior apologized for the way he had mostly treated her thus far; how he had previously acted as though she was an unworthy waste of space and of his time and energy; apologizing for subjugating her to extremely harsh and unnecessarily brutal training right off the bat in which had always left her either severely sick or in such pain (or both and with way too many bruises), with barely any real breaks, despite her being a thirteen-year-old youngster. Even though he had never treated a child as such, he had done so due to her being an outsider, specifically an outsider who kind of looked like she had originally come from the Reim Empire prior to meeting Yunan – most of the slavers who have sneakily abducted some of the Torran People in the past came from Reim, anyways. He had even vaguely expressed at how, looking back at them, his actions had sullied a bit of his warrior's pride.

Due to his slightly broken Common Tongue and his naturally blunt demeanor, his words actually flew out rather quick and brief; and when all was said, a small and soft smile adorned Emilia's face as she dropped to her side atop the woven mat. She felt as though this giant, dark mountain of stress had crumbled away – she began to no longer feel as though she absolutely had to be on edge around this Torran man.

The girl's abdominal muscles convulsed in pain for a few seconds when she let out a brief, airy giggle. "So you _can_ be nice and polite . . ." Tio merely rose his brows, unimpressed. She continued: "It's alright, really, I thank you for your apology. But, you know, I never really felt even a slight tinge of anger. I accepted your training methods, anyways."

"I gave no choice. Too harsh for you."

Emilia was silent for a couple of moments – that was mostly true in regards to him not necessarily giving her a choice in the matter. Whatever he had said to do, she did as such, even when a situation started to become a little more on the dangerous side of the spectrum. Whenever she had requested for something less intense – with good reasoning – or when she requested to sit down for a bit, as he would almost never allow for it, the warrior would immediately shut her down and berate her. Such was that after the very first four days of training, Emilia eventually stopped raising her voice; completely complying with everything Tio had wanted her to do.

Excluding a bullying problem from the sixth grade, Emilia could not recall a time when she had subconsciously and gradually became so damn uncharacteristically passive. She concluded that it was merely due to the stress of multiple factors: Dealing with Tio's disposition and his training methods; having to tread carefully in a village that hated outsiders and despite being open to Yunan, ninety-nine percent of the population did not like her (though, that was only just recently beginning to change, albeit quite slowly). Not to mention that since she was also representing Yunan, she felt as though she had to always be on her best behaviour; to constantly be poised and compliant else the Torrans would find some excuse to throw her out. And then there was the fact that she was still coming to terms with herself not being dead; she was still trying to get used to living in a different world, and as of this morning, she had only been in it for a total of one month and four days. It has not been long.

Emilia chuckled weakly. "Yeah, you really could have eased up a bit. I am not mad, though. I don't resent you, or anything." Oddly enough, that was true. Although if Tio's words here ended up becoming a mere false pretense for their next session, she would become livid.

Overall, Tio maintained an expressionless expression as he shifted his legs into a cross-legged position, yet his eyes were not hard but rather calm. "Stay until Magi comes. Don't come tomorrow; rest more."

"Ohhhh, so you can be soft, as well– ow!"

Emilia pouted as she rubbed at her forehead where an unamused Tio flicked at it. He took a quick gander at her bandaged knuckles. "Day after, we focus on kicks. Needs more work."

She barely puffed out her cheeks. "They're not _that_ bad . . ."

"Horrible," Tio pressed; the right corner of his lips twitching upwards a bit.

"Fiiiiiiiine," she had drawled before rolling to her back and snuggling with the sheet. "Thank you, Tio."

To Emilia's relief, it had indeed turned out that Tio's words and apologetic manner had not been a false pretense. Though her training remained the same, Tio was not nearly as harsh; nor did he continue to push her to the point of fainting, collapsing or of feeling seriously ill. The number of bruises from which she would normally receive drastically decreased, and the warrior allowed for her to take proper breaks. He began to give her the same respect as he would tend to give to a Torran child, as well.

Tio had even eventually ceased referring to her as an 'outsider.' He still occasionally called her a "silly girl," though, but at least now his "silly girl's" were no longer expressed with irritancy, ridicule or slight disdain, nor did he continue to utter them with a glance in which would have subtly said that she was unworthy to be here.

So far now, all was good.

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* * *

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Due to her improvement over these past couple of weeks, Tio had trusted Emilia to train herself for a little while as he joined Tono and Tono's eldest son for a bit of hunting. For the first thirty minutes, she had done some more stretching before then practicing various types of strikes with her arms and legs. As soon as she began to use one of those target pads strapped to a tree trunk, she was approached by one smiling fourteen-year-old boy and a fifteen-year-old boy and girl. The Torran youths could only say a limited amount of words in Common Tongue – and their understanding of the language was more at a beginner's level – but their intentions with her were quite clear: They wanted her to spar with them, and she accepted.

The birds seemed to be very quiet today. She rarely heard any peeps.

Unsurprisingly, Emilia lost every single sparring match with the more experienced youths, yet she did not feel frustrated at all. It was very fun, and it provided her with some good experience – both in fighting and in building a wider relationship with the Torran folk. She had even learned a few more words in their language, as well.

Quite a bit of time had passed before Emilia saw Tio emerge from between a couple of medium-sized tipis in the slight distance; and politely bidding farewell to her temporary companions, she jogged up to him . . . And saw a bloody, nasty gash lined across his inner left forearm. She almost winced. _Did he get that whilst hunting? Tio, of all people? Well, I guess it can happen to even the most skilled . . ._

Tio was the first to speak: "Sparring?" He seemed to be a little pleased for a second with her initiative.

Emilia nodded happily. "Yes, it was all in good fun. And they were nice. I should like do it again."

"Good. Come." He turned and re-entered his village. "I teach how to stitch wound."

The girl followed him with a light bounce in her step; clearly, she in a very good mood today. "Alrighty, then."

As the two sauntered along the pathways and meandered between tipis and people, Emilia recalled a funny exchange that had happened a couple of days ago, when Tio had just found out that she knew next to nothing about healing:

" _Don't know how prepare herbs for healing?"_

" _No; I don't even know which herbs can be used for healing. I've only used some for food, though."_

" _Stitch wounds?"_

" _No."_

" _Relocate shoulder?"_

" _No."_

" _Fix broken nose?"_

" _No."_

" _Silly girl. Must learn."_

" _Touché."_

Emilia did feel a bit for Tio's sanity – throughout the whole exchange, he had looked utterly incredulous and unimpressed, and she could have sworn that he had a moment wherein he seemed like he wanted to face-palm himself at least ten times. And then he asked her if she was knowledgeable in even one aspect of healing, to which she replied that she knew how to take care of those tiny cuts that people can just randomly get. His expression had not changed. She then confessed that she knew what to do with a sprained ankle – that at least had him stop looking at her with some disappointment.

Akin to a massage, the lukewarm wind blew through the girl's white tresses, and she inwardly revelled in it.

The duo finally arrived to where Tio's tipi was located, and she followed him inside. Emilia saw some clean rags, cloth bandages, a couple of wooden bowls of water, a silvery curved needle, and some sort of dark thread.

Tio sat cross-legged by the items; immediately then tossing one of the rags to Emilia, who caught it with ease. "Wet that. Clean as much as possible first. I wince, don't stop."

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* * *

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Sketching in the dark brown leather-bound book Yunan had crafted for her, Emilia sat at his tree stump dining table with a few Rukh fluttering about her. She cursed under her breath as she made a small mistake with her lead as she was fine-tuning the chin and jawline of a woman, but then she decided to smudge said mistake with her pinky, now morphing it into some light shading. _Much better . . . Whew, that was close!_

From across the room, the brown door opened, and the girl placed her lead down whilst closing her sketchbook as Yunan entered his house and closed the door.

With a smile, she opened her mouth: "Yuuunaaaaaan."

"No!" Instantaneous, the light-blue-eyed man shot his face towards her; comically apprehensive. Pouting, he placed his magician's staff against the wall, in between two cacti. "Emilia, no. Every time you call my name out like that, you end up teasing me in some way, shape, or form. So, _no_."

She dared to gaze upon him in the most innocent of ways and shrugged. "It's not my fault that you kind of make yourself an easy target to tease."

"I am not an easy target."

"Whatever you say, oh, great Magi." She procured a quick mock-respectful bow of her head.

Akin to a child wanting revenge against someone who had just stolen his pie, Yunan narrowed his eyes towards her as he sauntered to the table.

Emilia broke the silence. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about something."

He rose a brow. "Do tell; although, I think that I already know what it is."

She scrutinized him. "Earlier today, away from the forests surrounding the Torran Village, a Dungeon just shot up." Due to the structure being at such a far distance away, she was unable to perceive any of the finer details of it, but it was this deep, shiny black obsidian with elaborate gold filigree adorning it. She wished that she had her Samsung phone with her to take photographs of it. The structure had greatly surprised her; after all, only one risen Dungeon existed before it was finally captured. The rest of them popped up afterwards, so why was there already a second one? The girl continued, "Was that your doing?"

"Perhaps it was, perhaps it was not," came Yunan's chipper reply.

 _Naughty Yunan, naughty Yunan,_ chided a couple of Rukh, to which he pouted at them.

"Yunan, I know you rose it. The second Magi lives within the Reim Empire, her loyalty and love for it unwavering. She would never leave the country unless it's a life-or-death situation. The third should be a toddler by now, so he's unable to perform some of the more greater feats of magic."

He maintained his smile and chuckled. "Yes, yes, it was me."

"Has the First Dungeon already been captured within these past recent weeks?"

"Not yet," he hummed a little impishly as he skipped over to the kitchen to prepare some tea.

Emilia gave the back of his head a strange look. _Well, that's not supposed to happen. Then again, me being here was not supposed to happen, either._

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* * *

.

 _Matcha ice cream . . . Cookie dough ice cream . . . Mint with those big dark chocolate chips . . . Cookies 'n' cream . . . Traditional French vanilla . . . Hm. Pistachio gelato? Mango? Thick, creamy chocolate? Maraschino cherry . . . No._

The grunts of a couple of young training warriors were heard in the distance; the clangs of their curved long daggers piercing the airs.

 _I HAVE IT, NOW!_

 _Coffee ice cream. Two big scoops of those atop this large, steaming fluffy waffle; sprinkled with chocolate chips and white chocolate chips, and some blueberries and slices of strawberries and bananas; drizzled in that chocolate sauce and perchance some raspberry sauce, as well. A dollop of whipped cream on the side._

 _So beautiful. Stark perfection. And then I'll have some more ice cream. Oh, hot weather, why must you do this to me?!_

Such things had encompassed Emilia's longing thoughts as she stood with her eyes closed in the late-February heat within the training grounds. Suddenly no longer feeling the sun against her face, she felt something wooden lightly bonk the top of her head; and instantly opening her eyes, she saw Tio holding a thick dark brown stick by her head. With a seemingly blank expression, he asked her why she had this "stupidly dreamy" smile plastered upon her face.

 _Yummy food, yummy food,_ chirped the Rukh.

"Oh, I was only thinking about food," she replied lightheartedly (and a little wistfully) as she grasped the thick stick, immediately noticing that it was actually a wooden sword that was carved into the exact shape of Tio's gladius. Said warrior – who looked somewhat amused by her answer – held an identically-shaped practice sword. "Did you carve these?" she assumed of the larger man.

"Of course," came her instructor's flat reply.

"I am a bit surprised, though, I thought you wanted me to focus a little more on my hand-to-hand first?"

"Changed mind. Slightly. We still continue that, but I'd decided start teaching swordsmanship today."

The girl brought the wooden blade to her right hand. "Okay!"

Although a not-very-noticeable look of confusion, this was the first time Emilia had even seen Tio look unsure. "'Oh-kaay?'" he repeated.

The warm wind blew.

 _Ah, shit._ She cleared her throat in a rather subdued fashion. "Where I'm from, 'okay' is a word that is commonly used by everyone in different situations. In this case, I meant it as another way of saying, 'alright,' or, 'fair enough.'"

"Hm. I see." Quiet, Tio seemed to be pondering on that word; and after a quick moment, he then gestured to her practice sword with his in hand. "Two hands."

She rose a brow. "You can use this type of sword with either both or just one hand, though, right?"

"Yes." Tio procured a nod; a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Yet better to learn both hands first. Raise sword. Bit more. Feet not be too close . . . Good. Chin up; eyes up. Don't lock elbows – same as striking with hands."

Following his instructions, she then made eye-contact. "Will I be on the defensive first?"

"Yes." He rose his wooden blade, his grip both firm yet light.

At that moment, the girl noticed that, behind Tio, the two young twenty-something-year-old warriors who had been sparring many feet away have already stopped what they were doing. Now, they were watching her and Tio with curiousness and some amusement, whispering to each other every now and then. _Damn it, of course I'll get an audience as soon I get to learn something new._

Ice-blue irises once again made contact with pools of clear hazel; their owner merely gifting her a look that told her to be ready. Suddenly, the warrior's deft feet seemed like they were gliding over the soft grass, and his arm vaguely moved to the side as he then brought his practice sword around to make a slice at her neck.

Absent any warning, the bright blue of the mid-morning morphed into the deep golden orange-yellow of dusk, and the wheels of cars driving across the pavement filled her ears. The opposing wooden gladius became a silvery knife that gleamed, and it was held by a man bathed in shadow . . .

Dropping her sword, Emilia instantly fell to her knees with her eyes closed, her head down and her hands grasping her throat. She shook a little as her hair pooled to the ground. Tio's feet were a mere two centimetres away.

 _Emi, Emi,_ some of the Rukh chirruped. _Safe, safe._

Half-entertained, half-cruel laughter was heard in the slight distance and, almost immediately, Emilia heard Tio bark lividly at the two warriors in smooth Torran Speech. Raising her head a bit, she noticed how one of the young men suddenly flounced away with an annoyed expression donning his face. The other one trailed after him, but he at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Fucking cunts," she heard the warrior utter in almost a whisper.

Blushing, she kept her hands plastered around her neck. "What did you say?" she asked quietly.

"Insulted lack of manhood," Tio replied candidly, to which Emilia would have laughed if she were not currently distressed. Turning his face around, he gazed down upon her with a look of understanding as his pupils trailed over her hands covering her throat. Perchance he should not have aimed there? No. She has to learn to prevail over such trauma.

The well-built man placed a hand upon the top of her head. It was a tiny bit rough, if she were to be honest, but it was warm, and it did start to provide her with some comfort. Taking a deep breath, the girl picked up her wooden sword and stood.

Tio removed his hand. "You need some time?"

Her heart was no longer beating as fast as it had been. She wiped her damp eyelashes with the back of her free hand. "No. Let us start again."

Emilia's days continued with no other change to them; and before long, March was upon her. Every late morning or early afternoon, Yunan would pick her up from her day with Tio, but on the second of March, he did not come. She waited with her instructor by the front of his tipi for thirty minutes, but there was still no sign of the Magi.

And then a warrior with a tall spear approached the two of them; informing them that the chief would like to speak to them. Sparing a quick glance at each other, Emilia and Tio stood up and followed suit.

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* * *

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*** After Note I – Hmm, I wonder where Yunan gallivanted off to? *chuckles* Anyways, feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***

*** After Note II – Writing a bit of Yunan backstory is a lot more fun than I originally thought it was going to be. xD Damn it, Ohtaka-sensei, why must you make Yunan too damn mysterious?! I mean, yes, it is part of his character and charm, but I would love to see her vision on his backstory. \\(*0*)/ ***

…

 **Mari:** Glad to hear it! Thank you, and have a great week~ :D

 **Guest:** Aww, thanks very much; I'm glad to hear it! Have a great week~ =D

.


	4. A Haughty Djinn

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

*** Note III – Honestly the longest chapter I've ever written for any of my fanfictions. *laughs* It's not in my preferred style to write one past ten thousand words, but I made an exception for this 'cause I wanted to conclude the rest of Emilia's Torran Village sojourning in just one last chapter. ***

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* * *

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 **~ 003 – A Haughty Djinn ~**

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* * *

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"Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

~ J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_

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* * *

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In a spare corner of the back left side of Tio's tipi, Emilia settled herself upon the colourful rugs on her knees and placed her dark brown leathery travelling bag down beside her. Said bag was not small, nor was it overbearingly large. "Oh, thank you," she expressed amiably when the Torran Chief's nephew settled a spare woven brown mat, a couple of off-white sheets and an off-white pillow before her kneeling form. She was about to ask why he had seemed own more spare bedding than the average villager who lived alone, but then she inwardly concluded that these had most likely belonged to his deceased wife.

The meeting with the venerable Chief of the Torran Village was a rather quick one. The elder had informed her that Yunan had visited him sometime earlier that morning; leaving this travel bag for the girl and expressing that he will be journeying to a different continent for a little while. The chief had then asked his nephew if he was willing to house her for until Yunan returned, to which Tio then said that he was fine with it. Due to her sudden sojourning at the large village, Tio decided to give Emilia a more extensive tour of said village as she was actually unfamiliar with where most of everything was.

"Oh, yes, please do," came the girl's good-natured response. "Though, could I inspect my bag first? I won't be long."

"Sure. I wait outside." Tio exited the flaps of his home, and she saw a small handful of Rukh follow him; giggling like mischievous faeries.

Unclasping a couple of silvery buckles, she opened the flap and rummaged within: There were a few spare underwear and breast bands; some thin leather strips to tie up her hair when the occasion called for it; a slightly rounded, wooden hairbrush with black boar bristles; her finer white dress with the long slitted skirts and the dark blue sash, and her baggy white night-tunic; her sketchbook with some lead, and– oh, thank all of the fairy godmothers in existence. Yunan even remembered her cloth pads for her period!

A thin, rolled-up piece of parchment then caught her attention, to which she promptly unrolled it:

 _Little one,_

 _Fate commands; the Rukh guides; a boy strives, and Baal calls._

 _I daresay, then, that you know very well what this means? Hehe, expect my return no sooner than two weeks and no later than two and a half months. Be good and please refrain from mercilessly teasing others, else I will ban you from eating pie for one full month!_

 _~ Nan_

Doing a double-take, Emilia snickered at Yunan _actually_ referring to himself as 'Nan.' And then, with an eloquent smile, her eyes widened as she shoved the Magi's missive into her bag, immediately closing the flap. _I knew it! He is going to the Parthevian Empire, after all!_ A part of her wished that he would have taken her with him; then again, she did not want to leave Tio prior to learning more and perfecting her training as much as she could.

With a slight bounce in her steps, the Otherworlder waltzed over the tipi's threshold. The bright rays of the sun assaulted her vision for but a moment as she approached Tio, who was staring far off into the distance yonder the vast sea of green-and-brown trees. She gazed in the same direction, where elaborate gold filigree decorated a slender, colossal obsidian black tower.

As soon as that Dungeon had risen three days ago, the chief had decreed that no one should venture inside of it, nay, not even traverse near it. Not that the elder man's words were going to be heeded by every single person, but there have not been any incidents as of yet.

Emilia procured an interested smirk. "Are you perchance thinking on whether or not you want to go inside?"

Silent and blank-faced, Tio turned to her and regarded her for a couple of quick moments. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

She vaguely cocked her head to the side – basically, he did not want to talk about it. "By the way, what's that?" she asked as she pointed diagonally to her left, towards the circular, grey stone structure that was somewhat close by and had borne a close resemblance to the Stonehenge.

"For celebrations. And night meals. Every evening, villagers come dine together and give thanks."

"Give thanks to King Solomon, right?"

 _King Solomon, King Solomon_ , the Rukh chirped with tranquil reverence. With the lack of breeze, the day felt hotter than usual.

"Magi said name was lost to world but us."

"Ah, well, Yunan explained some things to me," she lied rather nonchalantly as she fanned herself. Again, she did not like having to stretch out the truth a bit, but the occasion did call for it in a way.

Tio regarded her. It was not easy to discern this particular man's thoughts. "Come," he began, "I show you around. Pay attention. Won't repeat myself."

She smirked. "Of course, Sir Instructor."

.

* * *

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… _Two Weeks Later_ …

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* * *

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"Here you are, madam. Will that be all for now?"

Chomping and swallowing the last of her bright orange carrot, Emilia handed a woven brown basket filled with a myriad of herbs in which had owned various shades of green to an old woman who sat upon a thick blanket and underneath an awning, just a few feet away from her tipi.

Smiling kindly, the herbalist with long and dark silver-grey hair tied into a braid gingerly accepted the basket and placed it atop the blanket. "No, that is it; I thank you, young one. May I call upon you again some another day?"

The ice-blue eyed girl smiled. "Of course. It was a pleasure to be of service," she farewelled and turned on her heel; soon then meandering through the bustling village and between the Torran folk who were going about their day. It was unusually cloudy this afternoon, but there was a bit of sunlight that struggled to make itself known.

Tio doubling the amount of Emilia's training – both with him and some more sparring sessions with a few other youths that were around her physical age – as well as the time spent on him educating her on herbs, preparing them for healing, tending to wounds, and how to properly care for one's weapons; were not the only things that changed throughout these past two weeks. Withal, the foreign girl had been acclimating herself rather well within the village by offering her assistance to those in need – such as assisting some of the elder herbalists by venturing out to certain places to collect certain plants, and helping some of the women with their huge loads of laundry or sewing endeavours. However, she was mostly put to the task of looking after some of the younger children when their parents or other relatives were a little too busy with whatever chore or job that needed to be done. Although sometimes annoying (children were definitely not perfect saints one hundred percent of the time), Emilia honestly did not mind it, especially when the mothers were merely too exhausted at times.

She started to miss Yunan. Well, she had begun to miss him since almost four days after his departure, but it was only now that she really felt as though something was absent from her life, albeit temporarily. Emilia was used to seeing him every day; used to constantly spending time with him, and his presence and voice soothed her being and her spirit, especially in the beginning when she had first woken up in this world . . .

Tio's tipi suddenly met her vision and she made a beeline towards it. As soon as her shoes left the walkway and stepped onto the grass, the aforementioned dark brown-haired warrior emerged from the flaps of his abode; dusting off what looked to be a bit of wood shavings from the white cloth wherein was wrapped around his hips.

Emilia rose an intrigued brow. "Oh? Were you carving something?"

"Yes," came the hazel-eyed man's response in his usual blunt tone.

"May I see?" She was genuinely interested.

"No."

"Pleeeeeaaaaaase?"

"No."

"Will you at least tell me what it is?"

"No."

"Not even one vague hint?"

" _No_."

"Whyyy?"

"Because no."

She pouted; widening her eyes akin to the manner of the _Shrek_ movies' Puss in Boots character. His response was an expressionless expression that surpassed all blank expressions. Reaching towards his right hip, he then unsheathed one of his two curved long daggers – the one without the Torran Language engravings – and presented it to her.

Managing to hide her glee behind a mask of poise, Emilia took it in her left hand. "More knife training, but with the actual sharpened blades this time?"

Tio smirked, and his eyes were blatantly challenging her. "Let's see if can keep up."

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* * *

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Emilia was not entirely sure how she got into this conundrum.

Five children had approached her; asking her to play 'hide-and-seek' with them in the forest beside the village, and she had consented after making them promise that they would not venture too far in.

In no time, she found three of them and instructed that they return and wait by the edge of the village, near some of the warriors who were on sentry duty. The fourth one she had with her, and she crouched over her upon the earth, hiding amidst huge bushes. "Shhhh," she murmured to the little girl as, from a distance, the fifth child was being so rudely manhandled by two tanned and dark haired men who looked like they were probably from the south or centre of the Tenzan Plateau. The little boy was gagged, and he was terrified into silence.

"I could not find any other children hiding around," spoke a man with a coarse beard.

"Doesn't matter. We are somewhat close by the village – we ought to leave now," replied the other one who tightly held the boy against his torso. "We were lucky to find one so soon!"

Birds never ceased to chirp, and the trees provided ample shade from the glaring sun.

"Quiet," Emilia whispered gently in accented Torran while the two slavers began to walk deeper into the forest. "Go. Get help." Tentative, the small girl covered her mouth with both of her palms as she turned in the opposite direction.

As discretely as she could, Emilia proceeded to follow the men at a distance; maneuvering around a plethora of trees and large bushes. After stepping over a half-hidden fox den, she followed them up a hill; and then reaching the tip of it, she noticed how, at the bottom of said hill, was a wooden barge wherein floated upon the wide and deep river. It was being helmed by two other men, who looked similar to the two she was following. A fifth man lackadaisically laid on his back atop the lengthy boat.

She could discern the voices of the two males with the bound six-year-old boy greeting their companions before then climbing on board. As soon as two other men gripped their long oars, the boat slowly began to move.

Delving into a run after ten seconds, the girl darted between a myriad of thick trees down the hill until she reached the banks of the river. Before the barge could further distance itself from land, she suddenly emerged from a cluster of bushes, jumping into the boat and knocking a man in a white turban off into the water in the process. The dark-haired boy was positively relieved when he saw her, but his cloth gag muffled his voice.

"What?! You are not Torran!" one of the incredulous men shouted. "What is someone like you doing here?!"

"Sorry, gents!" Emilia ignored his question with smirk, and she untied the boy's rope bonds that were rather sloppily wrapped around his wrists and ankles. She was a bit anxious and jumpy at doing this absent any help from Tio or some other warrior, but so be it. She was the one who had decided to follow the slavers to try and see if she could stall them. "This one belongs to a Torran family!"

The boat was further distancing itself from the forest. Emilia's heart was pumping.

"Not anymore. Step away from our product; this is none of your concern!" yelled the man with the coarse beard as he offered his assistance in pulling his fallen companion onto the boat. Spitting out water, the soaked man glared at her with irritancy and his black boots squelched.

She lifted the boy into her arms; and tugging at the gag, the child tossed it from his mouth. "He was under my watch; ergo, my business, you arse!"

"Let's swim," the small boy whispered to her in the Torran Language.

The two muscular men who oared the barge started to row at a faster pace. Aiming to grab at the boy, the angry wet man lunged at her, but Emilia ducked and stepped to the edge of the long boat. "Jump right back in if you really want him!" she hollered whilst throwing the youngster into the deep blue waters.

Because the river was calm this afternoon, she held no worry. The people of the Torran Village all held the skill of swimming and children were taught shortly after turning five years old.

 _Wow, they look absolutely pissed!_ Emilia almost received a kick to the stomach, but she swiftly pushed the foot to the side and stepped away. She dodged another grab; and when she did as such, she noticed that, in the distance behind the barge, a long-haired Torran warrior was moving out into the water to assist the swimming boy. She procured a victorious smirk.

 _More come, more come,_ a couple of Rukh chirped.

"Damned bitch!" insulted the bearded man when he suddenly lifted her into the air with his large hands encircled around her neck. "In his place, you will be –!"

The sensation of being choked did not last for long, for a white-feathered arrow with a black tip now embedded itself into his temple without warning. Emilia dropped to the boat, and as that man tumbled backwards atop the wood, a second arrow swiftly lodged itself into the back of one of the swearing oarsmen's head.

Standing up again, the girl noticed Tio and a black-haired warrior standing between the trees with bows in their hands. The former's eyes met hers. "Get over here!" he called out in his deep voice.

Emilia felt a bit queasy. "You'd better be ready to catch me, Tio –" She ran along the length of the barge, avoiding another slaver's frantic grasp. "– because I can't swim!" Taking in a deep breath, she leaped.

"WHAT?!"

She could no longer perceive any more of Tio's yelling, for her body pierced the cool water. Almost completely silent, she gradually sank . . . After six seconds, she began to open her eyes, immediately then closing them at the initial first sting of the liquid. The girl did not worry since she knew Tio was coming; yet at the same time, she kind of worried because the deeper she descended, the more it felt as though the water was crushing her. She estimated that she only had maybe ten or twenty seconds of oxygen left . . .

Strong arms encircled her; suddenly pulling her up. Powerful long legs moved and moved, and then cool air assaulted hers and Tio's faces. She coughed out a bit of water.

Breathing heavily and holding her against his torso, the warrior glowered down at her in incredulousness. "' _Cannot_ swim?'" He looked like he had just woken up from an overbearingly bad dream. "Silly girl! Very important; must learn!"

"Whatever you say, Sir Instructor!" a relieved Emilia tittered. An unimpressed Tio _tch_ ed.

It looked like one more thing was going to be added to her repertoire; unfortunately, she was not looking forward to these upcoming swimming lessons as she was not the biggest fan of it. _Ah, well. I'll just tolerate it. It is an important skill to have, after all._

.

* * *

.

Emilia rose from her bedding later than usual one morning – it would have been the equivalent of nine-thirty judging by how brightly the sun was shining through the tipi – and immediately found something to be amiss.

Tio was an early riser; if Emilia was not awake by at least around the six-thirty mark, he would have pulled her out of bed, and so him allowing for her to sleep in this late was outrageous. It just simply never happened.

Throwing the cream-coloured sheet to the side and scrambling to her feet, she ran towards the closed flaps of the tipi; uncaring about her slightly tousled bedhead and the fact that she wore nothing underneath her white night-tunic as she took a couple of steps outside. Not one person nearby was Tio. She ran her fingers through her waist-length hair to smoothen it out . . . Oh, there was Maire strolling alone towards her.

The black-haired woman hailed the girl in refined yet accented Common Tongue. She looked to be distressed.

"Maire, have you seen Tio?" came the younger's rapid question.

"That is what I am here to inform you of. Earlier this morning, one of the warriors under night duty saw Tio leave the village, heading for the Dungeon. He tried to stop him, but Tio stayed his course."

As skilled a warrior as he may be, the girl worried for the man. Dungeons, at the very heart of them, do not test a person's prowess (or lack thereof) at swordsmanship or other forms of physical fighting. Will the Djinn inside acknowledge him as a King Vessel, or will it turn Tio away and have him starve to death from within?

.

* * *

.

Emilia attempted to go fishing for her breakfast but failed miserably yet again; and so she enlisted the assistance of a man whom she had helped multiple times in looking after his young children whenever he or his wife were otherwise occupied. She cleaned Tio's tipi and dusted off all of his rugs. She sat perched upon a tree branch with her sketchbook and lead in hand, drawing the sceneries surrounding the Torran Village. Spending the next hour stretching and training by herself, she then spent the following four hours incessantly training with different warriors and young warriors-to-be that were around her age. The girl was then invited to have somewhat of a late midday meal with the Torran Chief and his family.

Such was her Tio-less day thus far. It has been three days since his departure.

 _Dungeon calls, Dungeon calls,_ tweeted a couple of Rukh that flapped over her head and above her face.

Currently, Emilia laid upon her back atop the soft green grass on the outskirts of the village; the lukewarm mid-April breeze caressing her body and slightly ruffling the short skirt of her training dress. She could hear a bit of chatter from the close distance of said village, as well as the occasional neighing of some of the horses from the wooden paddock.

She pondered the Rukh's words. _Does that mean that this Dungeon will be captured very soon? Will Tio be the one to do it?_ To stop herself from worrying way too much, her brain, once again, wondered towards the realm of food. Specifically waffles, unsurprisingly. This time, she thought about a fluffy waffle with two scoops of traditional vanilla ice cream; topped with sliced baked apples and applesauce, and sprinkled with cinnamon –

Suddenly, a handsome yet young and pretty face with big light blue eyes and long, braided platinum blond tresses hovered over her. A shocked little "Ah!" released from Emilia's lips. "Yunan, don't scare me like that!"

Sitting cross-legged above her head, the Magi merely laughed a rather musical laugh as the fingers of his slender left hand lightly tapped at his magician's staff. "Oh, how honoured I am to hear that my little one has missed me, as well!" Teasing, he dangled a light green pear before her eyes.

Her subtle look of brief frustration morphed into that of an entertained smirk. Sitting upwards, she took the sweet fruit and chomped on it. "You're late, by the way." She was exaggerating, of course – Yunan's letter had said that he would be back no later than two and a half months, but here he was one month and two weeks later.

He feigned offence. "There is no such thing as being late or early for a Magi. We merely appear to those who await us precisely when we mean to," came his rather posh response.

 _Oh my goodness, he pulled a Gandalf!_ Emilia burst into laughter, which had Yunan pout like a baby. "You just unintentionally quoted a fictional character from one of my favourite stories from back home!" she exclaimed, calming herself down.

Amused, the Magi chortled. "And was this character also a very highly-skilled user of magic?"

"He was, he was!" _Although, he seldom displayed it._ She took another bite out of her pear. "And how did you find Parthevia?"

"'Tis constantly sunny, and the sun is always too bright."

"Is that not also the case here?"

"There is ample shade here. Over there, one can barely find any decent protection against those murderous sunrays."

"But your hat is huge; should that not suffice?"

"No, it does not suffice!" Yunan groused; his eyes glistening with the desire to cry. "And there is too much open space – do you have any idea how naked I had felt?!" Thankfully, however, the land was ripe with barrels.

 _Baby Yunan, baby Yunan,_ chirped the Rukh.

"Fine, fine; I offer you my condolences for such an ordeal." Rolling her eyes in humour, Emilia shoved the remainder of the fruit into her mouth. Swallowing, she spoke again: "Have you accomplished all that you've needed to over there?" She doubted it as Baal's capture took two whole months in the real world.

Yunan composed himself. "No . . . Almost. Baal's capture seems to be taking a while, so I decided to return here for a little bit before going back." And then a delicate smile adorned his lips as he reached over and gently took her hand in his. "Come, I think that it is time to do this."

Desert dunes filled her vision in three seconds. Emilia's and Yunan's feet now stood upon light golden brown sand; the sun was brighter than usual, and the breeze was almost non-existent. Turning around, she found that the desert turned into trees and grass fifty feet away. She felt a light tug on the hand that Yunan still held onto.

"If we had walked from the Torran Village, it would have taken us almost a day," the Magi added lightheartedly.

She turned around again; her pupils taking in the tall obsidian black tower that had looked fifty times more massive up close than from a distance. She could see the more ornate decorations of the gold filigree wherein had covered the Dungeon; swirls and jaggedness; straight and more clean designs; some intricate floral reliefs that almost seemed elven in design . . . Withal, the way that the sunrays reflected off of the bright gold and the shiny black was almost blinding.

And then she took an unimpressed, nearly reproachful gander at the way up towards the entrance of said Dungeon: A flight of one thousand steps. On their own, the steps where rather beautiful – well-polished black marble that shimmered splendidly – but the stark number of those stairs were ostentatious and disgustingly plentiful.

"Ah," Emilia rose her voice with furrowed brows and faux fear, "So you force me to face one of my greatest enemies: A shit ton of stairs."

She immediately became amused when she saw a smirking Yunan then procure a subtle eye-roll. "Come now, little one, they are merely stairs. Do not be so dramatic."

 _You're one to talk._ "Well, that amount is ungodly. Who does this Djinn think he or she is, decorating its' entrance with a thousand steps?"

Yunan's smirk turned into a peppy smile. "Then you are in luck, for I shall whisk us up there at once!" And in a second, the duo were, indeed, standing upon stunning black marble at the very top of the insanely lengthy staircase. Before them was a golden archway encasing a doorway that was white and foggy. There was even a bit of dainty silver-white sparkles amongst the mist-like substance.

 _Traverse inside, traverse inside,_ encouraged the Rukh.

The pit of the girl's stomach proceeded to churn. "So, ah, you really are having me go inside there?" she asked nervously. She felt his hand squeeze hers in comfort.

Smiling, Yunan gazed down upon her with encouragement, and a kaleidoscope of Rukh flapped about around him; twittering nonsensical things. "Soon, you will be exploring the world, and so I–Why do you look like that? Surely you did not expect to stay here forever?" he interrupted himself as soon as Emilia began to look a little perturbed.

A light bit of pink tinted her cheeks and she turned her face away. "Obviously not! I do eventually want to travel this world. But . . . I haven't been in it for a considerable amount of time yet; as of today, I've only been here for three months and two weeks." She re-faced him. "And yes, I have already learned much; I've trained incessantly; my skills have greatly improved, but I could do with a lot more. I doubt that I am ready. Not yet."

 _I need more training or I'm going to die again. Besides, I know Yunan's not going to come down with me – he did not join Sinbad, after all, but he is a First-Class Singularity and he did have Drakon with him. Everyone else had a Magi or an entourage to assist them. But I'll have no one . . . Unless I happen to run into Tio, should he still be alive._

Yunan's hand unclasped from hers, and he brought it to the side of her head, tenderly stroking her hair. "Is anyone _truly_ ready? Go inside, little one, you must."

"No." Shaking her head, she took two steps back. "I don't want to. I don't want the trouble of having to face whatever's in there and I do not even want a Djinn. Not yet, Yunan."

Taking a couple of steps towards her, the Magi's eyebrows lowered. "You must, Emilia, you must do so now! You won't die in there, I can promise you that. Trust in the Rukh – they will most certainly guide you," he pressed in a more firm tone, yet his eyes held a certain gentleness and concern within them. His grip around his magician's staff tightened. "I want to see you safe."

 _Emilia, Emilia,_ chirruped a couple of Rukh who had landed upon her head. _Go inside, go inside. We help, we help._

Taking a few silent moments to gaze into the misty entrance, Emilia then gifted him with somewhat of a sardonic glare as she loosely crossed her arms over her abdomen. "How ironic your words are. That thing is no safe haven." She walked passed him, and her right foot was about to lower itself onto the first step when Yunan's free arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Have you forgotten your situation?!" the Magi rose his voice, albeit it was not quite a yell. Pulling her towards him, her back met his chest; and unsurprisingly, she caught a whiff of sweet nature and tea from his physical self. "You know that I cannot always be there to see you safe. You have been training to defend yourself against non-magic opponents, yet what if you come across a magician who wishes to do you harm? What if that magician somehow finds out about you and forces you to go with them?"

 _Like someone from Al-Thamen?_ Reluctantly conceding with the Magi, she let out a groan of frustration. Emilia wanted to bang her forehead against those beautiful black marble stairs. "Then I will die or surrender myself to them, unless I happen to have the power of a Djinn at my disposal. Damn it all; how could I have actually forgotten that?" She took in a shaky breath. "And Tio! I do not want him to die in there . . ."

She turned around when he removed his arm from her. "Then you must go to him," Yunan said with a small smile and saddened eyes. "I did raise this Dungeon for you, after all. Capture it, and my mind will be put to a little more at ease."

Quietly regarding his words, Emilia took tentative steps towards the foggy entrance until she was a mere five feet away. She looked up; a low whistle flying out of her lips. Icy blue irises gleamed with a sudden, brief impishness. "You know, with the height of this thing, do you think that the Djinn inside is trying to compensate for something?"

When she turned around, Yunan met her question with a blank face that rivalled Tio's. "Such indecent humour."

"Says the man who indecently shoots Dungeons up all over the place."

"What can I say?" came Yunan's usual cheery response. "'Tis one of a Magi's many duties should the time come in certain eras."

Emilia giggled. "I was going to say, 'just because it's something that you have to do, doesn't mean that it is something that you should do,' but one cannot really fight against Al-Thamen without powerful magic, now, can they?"

"Unfortunately, no. Now please, little one, I know that you are stalling for time. I will wait all day and night – and even longer – should it become necessary."

She shrugged in a bit of a flippant manner. "I know, I know." Taking a few more steps, her nose was now a centimetre away from that swirling, misty entrance. She turned around again. "Yunan, I –"

"Oh, just get inside of that Dungeon, you difficult child!" whined the platinum blond man with a slightly exasperated pout as he literally shoved his ward through the archway.

Yunan and the sunny skies dissipated from her view as she descended into an abyss. _Damn it, Yunan, I was going to ask you what Dungeon number this was and what the name of the Djinn is!_

The sensation of falling turned into that of floating; and in one long minute, silvery white stars from such far away distances proceeded to litter the blackness wherein had surrounded her. And then a giant orb appeared before her; an earth with oceans and continents of competently unfamiliar shapes compared to her Earth. At a slow pace, this planet spun around and around, with great pillars of pale golden light rising from it.

This sensation was a weird one for Emilia; but if she were to sum it up in one short sentence, she would describe the feeling as, 'being transported into another world.' Or, at least, to another dimension or plane of existence.

Absent any warning, the earth-like globe ceased spinning, and a beam of white-yellow light engulfed her. Once again, it was black . . . And then she felt hard rock beneath her legs and bottom. The dark grey rock of the cavern was everywhere – ceiling, walls, and the floor many feet down the lengthy passageway – and, other than the sconces upon the walls, there was nothing else in sight.

 _Go straight, go straight!_ the Rukh called out.

Emilia stood up immediately, and the fire from the torches flickered here and there. Turning around, she noticed how the seemingly never-ending cavernous tunnel had also stretched out behind her. It was too quiet . . .

 _No, no. Turn around; go straight,_ came the Rukh's calm yet high-pitched voices.

Slowly, she began to move her legs. She had to pinch her own arm once to clarify for herself that this was not a dream; she almost could not believe that she was actually inside of a Djinn's Dungeon! Although none too keen on this prospect, she could not deny that there was a part of her on the inside who was excited for this. On the outside, however, she was irritated at Yunan for forgetting to give her some sort of weapon for this misadventure.

In the darkened, torch-filled cavern, the girl stopped to take a gander at what had suddenly met her feet: Carved into the rock was a written language that took the form of lines, tiny circles and very skinny triangles. _Hm. I bet Tio had no problem with this._ She had managed to obtain a certain understanding of the Torran Language over the past many weeks – with regards to speaking and understanding said language, she was now a little more past the beginner's level of comprehension. About the actual written Torran Language, however, she could not yet read or write any of it.

Procuring an almost inaudible sigh, Emilia stepped over the smoothly-carved writing and continued down the pathway; the chirping Rukh fluttering and dancing after her.

…

Panting and wiping a layer of sweat from her forehead, Emilia stood up after trying to crawl her way through this cramped, tight, and almost completely darkened tunnel. It was rather maze-like; and if it were not for the Rukh, she would still be aimlessly meandering throughout it, lost. Not to mention that she probably would have died going insane in that damn claustrophobic place. Prior to that, she was forced to climb up cliffs and shimmy across their insanely narrow pathways. All of that dark rock felt quite hot, it was as though magma was hidden somewhere on the other side. And before her spelunking, she had darted across bridge-like walkways whilst dodging falling stalactites and trying her hardest not to fall into a lake of lava many feet below.

All of this took her three hours and as much as she wanted to sit down for a little while, she ultimately decided against it. A few cuts littered her body; her short dress was a little torn, and her left black shoe was missing – it had fallen from her foot when she was climbing that massive cliff.

The room wherein Emilia currently found herself was now of shiny black marble. It was a large and naked room with torch-filled sconces and one slender golden column protruding from the very centre of it. Said column was more like a stand; and on top of it, was a polished ruby that took the shape of an orb. Beyond it, at the opposite side of this room, was a wall with a circular dip carved into it.

Suspicious, the girl tilted her head to the side. _So, all I have to do is to take that ruby orb and fit it in that wall . . . No way. This looks way too easy._

The Rukh were silent. At somewhat of a slow pace, she sauntered towards the ruby; and as she did as such, she realized that charred black ashes were almost camouflaged against the dark marble. Human ashes, perchance, from some of the people who have entered this place before? If that was indeed the case, she dearly hoped that Tio's ashes were not amongst them.

Now standing before the giant, bright red ball, Emilia fixated upon the ruby, and it almost seemed as though the gem was begging to be taken by her. She took it in both arms and the torches' flames were doused absent any warning. It was completely black . . . Until mini balls of light slowly began to emerge from the ground.

 _Emilia, Emilia; go straight,_ the Rukh called out to her. _Ignore them, ignore them._

But she did not, for the balls of light now took the shape of small fire-butterflies. Nestling the ruby in the crook of her left arm, the girl brought her right arm out to the fire that was gentle and never-stopping.

"Stay with us," one of the elemental butterflies said when it landed upon her forefinger before flapping away. "We will put your worries to ease."

Mesmerized, Emilia turned around; ignoring the Rukh's voices as more of these butterfly-shaped fireballs began to emerge and cover the entirety of the black space. Another one landed upon her nose. "Come. Stay with us. We are beautiful, are we not?" this one said before twirling away.

 _No, Emilia, ignore them!_ the Rukh's panicked voices rose. _Leave them, leave them!_

Silent, she turned around again. All of these butterflies flapped as though they were in a special dance; thin threads and wisps of fire trailing from them like dainty, curling little ribbons.

"Become one with us. Become one with us." More butterflies proceeded to speak.

 _Turn around, Emi! Go right, go right!_

"Stay with usss."

 _Put the ruby in; put the ruby in! The wall to your right; the wall to your right!_

"Join in our beauty; revel in our beauty."

Emilia brought out her finger again; but this time, the fire-butterfly that touched her had stung her with its' heat. She blinked, and she felt as though her mind was free from a puppet-like trance. _Wait, what exactly just happened?_

The fire groaned. It was rather eerie. "No, no; join them! You must join their ashes! Become one with the beauty of it all!"

"Get away from me, you creepy little shits!" Emilia screamed as she frantically dodged the incoming butterflies. The delicate elementals tried to swarm her, to burn her to ash, but she kept moving and twisting and turning; following the Rukh's instructions on where to go.

 _Hurry, hurry!_ the Rukh yelled.

A cry of pain released from her lips as a butterfly burned her lower thigh and another two stung her bare arms. Her heart beat loudly into her ears as she had her spare hand trail against the wall.

 _Lower, lower!_ With a bit of their light, the Rukh fluttered down the dark marble wall.

Her cheek felt a hot sting; a bit of her hair was singed; the arm wherein held the orb began to burn . . . Suddenly, the Rukh's light presented her the circular hole; and without any ado, she shoved the polished ruby in.

A fire-butterfly aimed for one of her eyes.

The floors beneath her feet disappeared.

"Ah!" yelled a half-startled, half-relieved Emilia as she descended down a black marble tunnel and away from those sinister things.

And so she slid and slid and _slid_ down a twisting and turning passageway. The hot temperature gradually became lukewarm, and then it started to become cold. To her dismay, her right black shoe slipped off and dropped out of sight. After about a couple more minutes of sliding, the tunnel dumped her into a bright circular room of white and pale blue. A plethora of wide-arched halls decorated the iced walls of the area. Her breath morphed into wisps of mist, and her bare feet now stood upon what seemed to be a mixture of ice and crystal. Hugging herself, she shuddered – this short dress and lack of footwear would not do in this low temperature!

 _No, no, not there._ A swarm of Rukh flew in a straight line across Emilia when she was about to step into the closest passageway to her right. Stopping for a moment, she made her way towards the opened doorway beside this one, but the Rukh advised her to avoid this pathway, as well.

Not necessarily annoyed, she crossed her arms loosely over her abdomen. "Well, where do you want me to go, then?" Still a bit rattled from that butterfly fiasco, her question came out in an agitated way.

 _Over here, over here,_ answered a few of those white-gold birds as they hovered over an archway three openings to her left. _Be careful, be careful . . ._

Promptly, she jogged through it before then slowing down into a precautious walk as massive ice-like rocks, ledges and spikes now protruded from the wide walkway of the huge cavern.

 _Fuck it, Yunan, if I actually die down here, I'll make sure that my ghost haunts you for the rest of your life!_

Meandering between them and turning a couple of corners here and there, the girl suddenly stopped; and she bit the inside if her cheek in uneasiness when she came face-to-chest with a grown blond-haired man with brown sandals, light grey eyes, and garb that looked very Reim-like. He even had a gladius strapped to his right hip. Looking a little surprised, the man suddenly smiled. "I did not expect to see a girl wandering within such a desolate place."

"I am a traveller." Emilia decided to borrow Yunan's and Aladdin's typical introductory.

He seemed a bit amused. "A traveller with nothing but a torn dress?"

She shrugged. "I lost my shoes climbing. I was pushed in here unexpectedly by a sensitive idiot, though, and all of my things are in this village I'm currently staying in." She noticed how the last part of her sentence brought intrigue to this man, and that was when she came to the assumption that he was either a traveler himself, or a slaver. "And how did you get in here?"

"Speaking of a village, my companions and I were on our way to one within this area; but then we saw this giant tower, and we thought that there would be riches inside due to its' outer appearance, but it is all shit in here. We have been trying to escape."

"Companions?"

Keeping a friendly disposition, the blond man jabbed a thumb behind him. "My friends are settled down at the end of this passage. One was burnt alive by these creepy butterfly-looking fires, I almost could not believe it! And two went missing, and so here I am trying to look for them." His pupils raked over her physical features.

"I didn't see anyone on my way here. It is possible that they have wandered down a different passageway, or that they've died somewhere else. It's better that you rejoin your comrades."

He procured a nod. "I see . . . Thanks." His smile dropped.

Emilia maintained her calm and cool. "And you won't escape until you find the treasure chamber. It is not, as you say, 'all shit in here,' but it will take you time and perseverance."

"Oh?" his voice rose in interest. "Have you been inside one of these magical towers before?"

"Yes," she lied. "And all of the gold, jewels, and other valuable items that you will eventually find will be worth it." It was kind of fun attempting to gather his unspoken thoughts from such a man.

Excitement and greed flashed through the Reiman's eyes. He clapped a hand against her shoulder. "Come, little girl! Help my companions and I, and the cost shall be equally divided."

 _He's lying._ She smirked – it really was fortuitous that she had maintained her adult mind from her world because the real thirteen-year-old Emilia from many years ago had been a little more on the gullible side. "Lead the way."

And so he did with Emilia a couple of feet behind him as they lackadaisically meandered down the white-blue icy passageway. The man was the first to break the silence: "Did you mention that you were staying at a village?"

The Otherworlder rose a brow. "The Torran Village."

"And here I had assumed that those savages despised outsiders," he spat contemptuously. She suddenly felt defensive of these people, but the man spoke again before she could retaliate. "When we are finished here, how would you like to help my friends and me in locating this village? And then we can bring you back to Reim. You are from our glorious Empire, are you not?"

 _Hm. So they are human traffickers . . ._ "Yes," she lied once again; although, it did feel a bit weird referring to it as a 'lie.' Yes, Emilia was not born here, but she did have Roman ancestry due to her mother and her mother's family being mainly Italian; ergo translating that into the _Magi_ world, she would indeed be considered half-Reiman.

"Excellent! Your rewards shall be guaranteed once you've helped us in selling a few Torrans."

"Yeah, no thank you," she replied sarcastically through angry eyes whilst taking a gander at his sword. "Because you will then try to sell me off in Parthevia, or some other country where my colouring isn't as common, won't you?!" She pulled out his gladius from behind, but in the midst of that, the Reiman spun around and knocked her away; the sword clattering against the breathtaking, chilly ice-crystal floors.

"Clever girl," said the man with a joyless smile as Emilia rolled over her right shoulder and wasted no time in standing back up. He spread out his arms. "Be good and come here."

"You be good and turn back. I will do the same." Looking at the sword again, she vaguely bit her lower lip. _Damn, but the Rukh told me to go down this way._

Sliding his blade behind him with his foot, the Reiman smirked. "There will be no weapons, here – I would not want to damage such goods."

She flexed her fingers. He moved a few fast steps towards her whilst bringing his arms out to grab her, but she simultaneously ducked, immediately then delivering a swift punch into his groin. A low yell of pain escaped from the man's lips as he dropped to his knees; and she was about to sidestep away from him when he harshly grabbed her wrist. "Fucking little shit!" he raged while punching her against her temple. "You will come with me!"

Stumbling upon the smooth floor, Emilia rubbed at the side of her head; and when he began to pick her up, her patience instantaneously became nil. One hundred crawling millipedes may as well be squirming within the pit of her stomach at the thoughts that had suddenly claimed the forefront of her mind. _Ha! 'Monsters who happen to wear the skins of humans,' indeed!_

A startled gasp was heard from him as soon as he had lifted her to his eye level, for Emilia had swiftly grabbed at his clothes; throwing herself towards him before then sinking her teeth into his throat. His eyes greatly widened, and she bit into him using the same amount of chomping strength she would typically use when chewing into a particularly tough piece of meat.

"Ah . . . Ahhh . . . Ahhhhh . . . Ah!" came his strangled, fear-stricken gasping as Emilia pulled her face away, spitting out the raw flesh from her mouth. Blood spurted from his jugular; and gasping for air, the Reiman collapsed against the cold floor, convulsing in his state. Plunging her left fist into his throat, she seized whatever she could and pulled her arm away; flinging that slippery man-flesh away. And that was when the blond man ceased moving altogether.

Quivering and in distress, the girl slid off of her very first kill. Her throat felt constricted and the taste of his blood made her gag. _I cannot believe that I had done that. I can't believe that I had done that. I –!_ Absent all elegance, she bent over and vomited out her lunch. She suddenly heard footsteps, and tears proceeded to stream from her eyes. _No, no, go away; don't see me like this!_

Coughing out the last of her vomit, her head spun to the side as soon as she felt a large, slightly rough yet comforting hand come down upon the crown of her head. "Tio, you're here!" She turned her whole body around as the tanned and muscular warrior with dark blue tribal paint and a myriad of scars shoved his water skin into her face.

 _Safe, safe,_ uttered the Rukh.

"Here. Clean mouth," he spoke in his usual blunt voice, yet his clear hazel orbs looked rather saddened. Graciously, she took the skin. The man's eyes trailed from the torn throat of the dead Reiman to the thick, dark red liquid wherein caked his pupil's left hand and wrist; her jaws and chin; a bit of her neck, and there were some specks that marred her short white dress. "Fucking cunt," he spat bitterly. "Making you do that." Kneeling before her, he took his water skin when she handed it to him; and then taking a closer look at her face, he brought his right calloused hand towards it and wiped her tears with the backs of his fingers. "No crying. Silly girl, why you here?"

All that Emilia desired to do for the moment was to hug Tio, but she decided against it. She doubted that he would reciprocate, anyways. "Yunan returned. He had me come inside." Taking in a deep breath, she wiped her bloody hand long the skirts of her garb.

"Tch, of course." Now standing, Tio scowled. "Stupid Magi. Too dangerous."

"But I am glad to see that you're not dead – it's been some time." She stood as well, and her legs were a bit shaky.

His face was deadpan. "Only been few hours."

Although still not feeling well, she managed a small half-smirk. "Three days have passed in the real world. The time difference is very different within these Dungeons."

"I see . . ." That seemed to have piqued his intrigue for a short moment.

"By the way, where's your bow and quiver full of arrows?" she wondered after finally realizing his slight lack of equipment. "You never leave the village without them."

A long five seconds passed before Tio decided to reply. "A beast. Huge, powerful, yet quick. Wolf-like. Used all arrows and it broke my bow."

 _Wolf-like, wolf-like,_ a couple of Rukh twittered. _Be careful, be careful . . ._

She rose a brow. _A beast? I didn't see even slight traces of one . . . Hm. He probably started off in a completely different area of the Dungeon, then._ "But you managed to slow it down, right?"

He smirked, but it was not a victorious one. "Of course. Now come; no need stand idle."

Emilia's mouth slightly opened when Tio turned around, for five bloody claw marks were etched into his back. Thankfully, they were not terribly deep (obviously, since the man carried himself without any visible problems, and he did have a high pain tolerance), but they were not mere cuts, either. "And did this beast do that to your back?"

"Yes. Narrow escape. Must hurry."

The girl felt a little queasy when she took one last gander at the torn throat of the slaver's cadaver. "He was a slaver, you know, and he said that he was originally on his way towards the Torran Village. There are more of them at the end of this tunnel." She lifted the Reiman's sword.

A light shiver creeped up her spine when Tio suddenly turned around with a mad expression twisting his face. "Seems like I must first hunt scum." She said nothing as the two of them proceeded to trudge down the passageway; dodging random spikes and avoiding holes in the ground, and turning many a sharp corner here and there.

Running a hand through her snowy white hair, Emilia broke the silence: "You muttered, 'Of course,' when I said that Yunan pushed me in here. He informed me that he had risen this Dungeon for me – did you somehow know of this?"

Tio did not turn his face when he replied. "Had feeling."

"Yet you decided on entering anyways? I know you've been contemplating doing as such since it had first appeared."

"Wanted to see if can capture myself. Use Djinn's power for my village."

 _You know, I feel like there's something else . . ._ A sudden competitive smirk graced her lips. "Then it will be fun seeing how this Djinn will choose between the two of us."

A vague sparkle of excitement flashed through Tio's eyes. "Indeed."

As soon as the duo turned a particularly sharp corner, they caught sight of a shadow upon the shimmering ice-and-crystal walls down the passageway. And then a voice sounded, a voice calling out what seemed to be a Reim-sounding name. Tio pulled out his blade; sashaying towards said shadow. Emilia followed suit; the voice sounded again; and after five more steps, another Reiman with short light brown hair emerged from 'round a corner.

"Ah." The newcomer seemed a bit surprised at finding someone else other than his companions. His eyes were fixed upon an expressionless Tio. "You are of the Torran Tribe, are you not? Have you seen a companion of mine? I think he got lost; he has blond hair . . ." But his speech trailed into silence, for that was when a blood-stained Emilia moved to stand by the Torran's side with his companion's gladius gripped into her right hand.

He pulled out his knife, but a swift Tio seized his wrist and twisted it; eliciting an angry cry of pain from the Reiman when the bones of his poor wrist cracked. His knife fell from his grasp and clanged atop the pretty floor.

"My apprentice, cunt," Tio began with a scowl whilst raising the other arm in which held his blade. "No touch." Thrusting his arm forward, the gladius went through the Reiman's mouth and out the lower back of his skull.

Emilia released a shaky breath; closing her eyes for a long moment before opening them once more. "Thank you for that." _I guess. It feels weird thanking someone for killing someone else, but Tio did do it for my sake._

"Of course." The Reiman slumped to the ground as soon as Tio pulled his sword back. He flicked his wrist, and much of the red liquid that had coated the blade was flung along the walls and floor.

They continued down the winding passageway; and after turning one last corner, they found a short hall leading into a wide-arched exit. Emilia walked in front of Tio this time, but then the warrior immediately shoved her against the wall, for an arrow whizzed passed them.

"Who is it?!" yelled a masculine voice. "We heard our comrade's cry – come out and answer to whatever you have done to him!"

"We can see your shadows!" hollered a gruffer voice. "Don't bother trying to hide!"

Emilia exhaled slowly. "Shall we, then? We absolutely have to go this way; the Rukh say so."

Noiseless, Tio pondered her words. She can see and hear the Rukh even though she was not even a simple magician? "Behind me, then."

Her brows lowered, and she craned her neck to look up at his very tall form. "You know I can help you, Tio; you did train me, after all."

"COME OUT, NOW!" A second arrow rapidly flew by Tio's short brown hair, chopping off a couple of strands.

"No." Despite his somewhat saddened eyes, his voice was firm and direct. "No more. Children should not kill. You have me; I do for you."

She began to feel warm at his surprisingly caring demeanor. He really can be a ball of kitten fluff at times, could he? If she had maintained her adult body to go with her adult mind upon coming to this world, she could not deny that she probably would have ended up having a crush on this man down the road after getting to know him a lot more. Only a short passing fancy, however, because she more so thought of him as a dear instructor and friend. Not to mention that he was also still in love with his deceased wife. "Fine, then," came her quiet response.

Ruffling the hair atop her head, a pleased-looking Tio turned and walked carefully towards the bright, wide exit with Emilia trailing behind him. The warrior suddenly brought his blade up to his chest, and a third arrow ricocheted off of the silvery thing. "Not bad aim," he commented to himself. "But slow. Predictable."

"Of course, I should have known that we'd have a Torran in our midst!" a derision-filled voice jeered from one of the six Reim slavers many feet away. He held a bow in his left hand.

Emilia and Tio slowly stepped through the archway of the passage and into a large, open-spaced cavern with many ice-crystal stalactites, stalagmites, holes and ledges along the uneven walls in which seemed to forever travel upwards. Their footsteps procured small echoes. It was very bright within, and northwest to the two was a cliff that had most likely led to a river considering that there was a waterfall by their peripheral visions. The girl could tell that most of these slavers seemed to be uncomfortable with Tio's presence, and with the fact that he was slowly advancing upon them akin to a lion stalking prey. She stayed close by his side, albeit not too close as that would hinder his free movements.

"Look scared!" Tio derided with a rather sadistic smirk – an unsurprising change in attitude whenever he came face-to-face with human traffickers. "Shat yourselves?"

The Otherworlder could have sworn that she had just heard a vague echo of a low growl, but she passed it off as the hum of the waterfall . . . Although, glancing up at Tio's face, she noticed how his pupils were beginning to dart all over the place, and his hold on his gladius seemed to have tightened.

"Y-you are one against six! That girl doesn't count!" responded an uncertain bald Reiman with a thick knife in hand.

"No, you _will_ all die unless you back down and let us through!" Emilia retaliated. Her grip around her "borrowed" sword tightened. _Come on. Don't have Tio kill you. Destroyers of lives as you may be, I don't want to see any more. Have the Dungeon kill you, not Tio!_

 _Beast comes, beast comes!_ a few panicked Rukh tweeted. _Flee, flee!_

"There will be no such option!" screamed an enraged bearded Reiman as he unsheathed his gladius. "We demand blood! You– oh . . ."

"Then blood you shall get," she heard Tio whisper emotionlessly when a shadow covered them. Fear-struck Reimans stared up above in the direction behind the duo, but the Torran man calmly sheathed his blade. "Good hunting, beast."

And the shadow neared. Reim slavers began to disperse in hysteria. Long, silvery hooked spears for claws narrowly missed Tio's broad shoulders when he ducked and flung himself towards Emilia; hugging her tightly against his body as the two of them rolled away, avoiding this roaring newcomer. She could hear bloodcurdling screams from the men, shouting nonsensical things in their final moments.

"Time to go." Wasting no time in getting back onto his feet, Tio lifted her up. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, the warrior's legs pumped at such a speed towards the cliff.

Curious, she peeked over his shoulder at a great beast that was busying itself with tearing at a shrieking Reiman with its' maw. Said beast did indeed look like a wolf, yet it was almost more of a deformed wolf. The large eyes did seem creepy – they were completely white with thin bright red veins; but they did not own irises nor pupils, either. Its' long and thick fur was rather nice-looking; black, with this deep sapphire-like blue sheen to it. Some of Tio's arrows poked out of the wolf-beast, yet it did not seem all that hindered by them . . . Although, there was a vague limp in one of its' hind legs.

Emilia buried her face into Tio's shoulder right before the beast finished tearing that man in half. In four seconds, she felt the warrior jump, and they held in their breaths just prior to piercing the cool river.

…

After roughly thirty minutes of just laying by the banks of the river and catching their breaths, Emilia and Tio sauntered with purpose down a slender tunnel from which the Rukh had recommended that they traverse through. Their clothes were wet, but at least they no longer uncomfortably clung to their bodies like a second skin. His short hair was actually almost dry, but her tresses were still mostly wet. Their skin felt chilly, yet they welcomed that refreshing water – Emilia because she managed to thoroughly clean off the blood from her flesh, although some of it had refused to come off and there was no use in even thinking about cleaning it off of her clothing; and Tio because the claw marks upon his back were itching and irritating him. The cold water had at least alleviated some of that sensation, and he hoped that they were approaching the Dungeon's end so that he can hurry and have his wounds tended to.

Absentmindedly, the girl flexed her fingers with slight irritation. She had lost her borrowed blade somewhere within the river when she and Tio were swimming away from the action.

 _Almost there, almost there,_ chirruped the excited Rukh.

She mentally smirked. _About damn time we got out of this shithole. This Djinn had better be worth the trouble!_

Exiting the cramped tunnel, the duo found themselves in a similar gargantuan and open-spaced cavern as the one where they had briefly confronted those Reim slavers and that beast: White-and-blue ice-crystal stalactites, stalagmites, holes and ledges along the uneven ground and walls obnoxiously littered the vicinity. The ceiling was so high up that they could not see it at all; however, there were this time no waterfalls or rivers.

"Tio, I think that's the end," Emilia commented in a relieved tone when she pointed in the distance before her; and absent any hesitation, they began to walk in the direction that she had gestured towards. At the very end of this huge room were great, shiny black marble doors. Chiselled into the centre was this circular dip. The girl titled her head to the side. _Another one of these fit-the-jewel-orb-into-the-hole things? But I don't see any gems here._

She hopped over a fissure in the ground, and Tio ducked under a couple of spikes wherein stuck out from the sides of one of the giant ice rocks. Out of curiosity, Emilia looked behind her – perchance the jewel orb was hidden somewhere else here? But as soon as she did, her head spun right back 'round and she lowered herself behind a rock. Ceasing his movements, Tio was about to ask her about why she had done that when a low, guttural growl suddenly resonated throughout the cavern.

 _The beast has the orb,_ chirped a couple of Rukh. _The beast has the orb._

"Tio," she murmured, "It's time for us to defeat the final boss."

Amused by her choice of words, Tio, so very slowly, unsheathed his gladius before then handing it to her. "Climb up. Use instincts. Strike when you think it right."

Long, sharp claws were heard clinking and scraping against the floors.

Despising how he was planning on making himself out at bait, she took the weapon in both hands. "Don't die."

"Won't come unscathed."

"I know, but that doesn't mean that you absolutely have to die."

"Not up to me."

"But –"

"Go, silly girl!" he snapped, and the beast growled louder. He could hear its' loud sniffing. Reluctant, Emilia parted from him.

Turning around and slowly walking backwards, Tio fixed his pupils intensely upon the wolf-like creature. Pulling out both of his curved long daggers, he deftly held them in both of his hands, and he held up his body with such poise and confidence. Oh, yes, he was definitely not coming out of this unscathed; but so be it, for he had already resigned to his fate.

The beast's feet crushed the rocks and spikes as it advanced upon the warrior, and its' elongated ears twitched. Bringing his right arm up in a rapid arc, Tio managed to slice at one of its' paws whilst dodging those dreaded claws before then running underneath the belly. He brought his left dagger up to cut at it, but the fur was just so thick under there. His sword would have had a chance, but it was with the girl.

Livid and not sure as to where exactly under it the man was, the creature kicked its' hind legs forward – that had brought Tio out as he had sidestepped away from those dangerously-clawed paws, but then the beast brought its' massive tail around and swiped the man. Flying and dropping many feet away, the warrior was nearly impaled by an icy spike that that was only one centimetre to his left. His back did hurt, though.

For a split second, Tio noticed Emilia trying to climb to higher ground; jogging along the upper ledges somewhat near him and the creature. He inwardly smirked as it seemed as though she was considering doing what Tio had wanted her to do in the first place. Thankfully, that wolf-like thing was only focused upon him, and so all that he needed to do was to have it stay mostly still for at least five seconds.

He ran under the beast's long body right when it tried to pounce on him. When he turned around he had managed to deflect its' claws with both of his curved long daggers before then rolling under the aforementioned body. Such things continued on for a short while: The beast attacked, but Tio would dodge and roll under the body in different directions in attempts to have it lose its' bearings . . . And then the roaring beast managed to trick him; and in doing so, it took the opportunity to swing its' tail as hard as it could against the man, who was then lifted into the air at a fast speed before then crashing against a couple of massive, icy wall-like rocks. His grip never slackened from his daggers.

Tio could have sworn that he had heard a crack or two. He hissed in pain whilst struggling to sit upright – oh, yes, a few of his ribs were broken. The creature gave him zero time to stand up again; instantly closing its' maw around the warrior's torso and stabbing its' long and pointed teeth into his flesh. A deep, tortured yell pierced the area, and the man proceeded to feel dizzy.

And then his slightly-blurred vision caught Emilia leaping from a high ledge.

"Fucking puppy cunt!" Using the last of his strength, he swiftly reached his arms out and stabbed both of the corners of the wolf-beast's mouth.

Landing upon the base of the large head, she gripped at its' thick fur to steady herself.

Because of those daggers, the deadly mouth was forced to go lax. The creature procured a high-pitched whine as the man fell from its' jaws. It was about to shake its' head . . . And then it was silent, for Emilia had plunged Tio's gladius into the skull. The beast collapsed.

 _Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no!_ Gritting her teeth, the girl's pupils trailed over a severely bloodied Tio. He coughed, and some of that thick, red liquid dribbled out the corners of his mouth. She hopped off of the wolf-creature's cadaver and ran towards his laying form. "Tio!"

"You did . . . Good," he rasped with a shaky breath. Slowly, blood seeped from his many wounds.

"Only because you taught me useful stuff," she responded quietly. A sense of panic began to grow within her.

A flash of light blue light randomly appeared and the clanging of weapons against the floor sounded. Turning, Emilia noticed how the beast's corpse exploded into a trillion of sparkly blue particles; and in its' place, was a big and polished deep blue sapphire orb. "Oh. Oh, Tio, I'll be right back!" she called out as she ran to the gem, lifted it, and then ran all of the way towards those pretty black marble doors. Fitting the jewel into that circular carved crevice, the doors started to open on their own, but she opted not to wait and instead raced back to a quietly dying Tio. She immediately gathered his weapons that were strewn across the ground, soon then fitting them into their corresponding sheaths upon the man's belt.

"C-come on, Tio. We're almost there. A-almost there." Desperation swelled within Emilia when she moved to Tio's head; crouched down to lift his shoulders, and started to drag him. "Oh, jeez, why are you so heavy? All of these damn muscles!"

Chirping silently, Rukh began to flutter around them.

A feeble chuckle flew out of his mouth. "Silly girl . . . Leave me. Almost there . . . No waste t-time on m-my behalf."

"Don't you 'silly girl' me!" Angry eyes feeling watery, she blinked back her tears. "And yes, the end is beyond those doors, so I am going to drag you over there –" She struggled to pull him, and a trail of blood upon the ice-crystal floors emerged. "– I will bring you back to the village and I will have all of your wounds looked after." The stench of his blood almost had her gag, for it made her mind trail back to when she had torn out that Reiman's throat with her own teeth. Thankfully, she had managed to calm herself down.

Weakly, the warrior shook his head, and she noticed that his facial expression was quite relaxed, almost soft. His lips were even twitched into a smile, albeit a not very noticeable one. "Already gone, silly girl . . . Allow me d-die . . . With little pain as . . . P-possible." He coughed.

"Oh, so that's what it is." Exhaling, her eyes widened as a sudden realization came to her. She gently lowered his shoulders and head upon the floor. "Obtaining this Djinn's power for the Torran Village was your second choice outcome for this venture." She kneeled by his side. "Because your first choice was to die what you felt was a worthy-enough death, and masking it as an accident while trying to accomplish something for the sake of the village. Is that it?!" Gritting her teeth, she shook her head. "Tio, I've been told that you haven't been the same since five years ago, but I don't think that this is what your wife would have wanted for you."

Tio's answer was silence, but there was a slight tinge of guilt within his eyes. "You were . . . Good student . . . Make sure . . . Continue hone skills," he finally spoke in a voice that was almost in a whisper. The fingers upon his bloodstained left hand twitched – he could now barely move his limbs on his own.

Emilia took it in her two smaller hands. "Of course!" She procured a joyless smile. "How else will I get better, then?"

"T-thank you."

"What for?"

". . . Was fun . . . Teaching you . . . Brought back f-feeling and . . . A-and memories . . . Of teaching . . . S-son . . ." His eyes became half-lidded, and his chest barely moved from his gradual lack of breathing.

Still refusing to cry in front of him, she shook her head, and her hold around his cold hand tensed. "And I must also thank you; for training and teaching me different things; for allowing me to stay with you when Yunan left . . . The first two weeks were really rough, but we came to an understanding, a-and you were so patient with me!" There was more that she had desired to say, yet she kept her words short. "I am happy that it was you, so thank you, Tio."

"Oh . . ." His fingers around one of her hands slackened, and his eyes focused upon the ceiling where there was apparently something he could see but she could not. "Oh . . . See them . . . I see them!" the warrior expressed weakly, and he held a sudden small smile of tranquility and contentment.

 _He's leaving me. He's leaving me._ Biting her lower lip, the girl closed her eyes. "Tio."

". . . See wife . . . A-and baby . . . I . . . See them . . . _Emilia_."

Tio saying her name for the very first time was the very last word that he had had uttered. She refused to release his hand as she heard a giant swarm of Rukh chirp and gather around the man's body, soon leaving and dissipating away. Her eyelids stayed shut until she felt a warm hand ruffling at her head; and opening her eyes, she saw a white-and-pale gold translucent Tio standing by his corporeal self. At first glance, he seemed to don a blank expression; but upon meeting his eyes, she noticed how he gazed upon her with a certain encouragement and some rare Tio-version of lightheartedness.

"Please don't leave," she begged softly.

But his spirit transformed into Rukh, and those Rukh had soon fluttered away, disappearing from her sight.

"Please come back." Frantic, she turned her head in multiple directions. "Don't l-leave me. Not in here, all alone . . ." Her voice trailed to quietness as soon as her eyes met the opened massive marble doors.

 _Not alone, not alone,_ a few Rukh cheeped whilst landing in her hair. _Return to Yunan; return to Yunan._

Emilia sighed inwardly. That was right: The treasure chamber was merely within sight; she was not going to be alone for long, she was going to see Yunan again.

Half-despondent, she turned her head and lowered her face to gaze at Tio's damaged body. She released his hand and brought a couple of fingers towards his eyelids to close them over his clear hazel irises. _He looks so very much at peace._

Standing on vaguely shaking legs, the girl walked around to his head; lowered herself to pick up his shoulders once more, and continued to pull his heavy body along. Adamant, she was definitely not about to leave him here.

And so she dragged and dragged and _dragged_ Tio's corpse across the pretty pale floors. She could have sworn that ten minutes have passed by, yet they were not even halfway towards the treasure room. More blood was smeared atop the ground, and the scabbards wherein where attached to Tio's belt lightly scraped against the ice-crystal . . .

Finally, they were now ten feet away. Easing his shoulders and head on top of the ground, a huffing Emilia dropped to her knees to catch her breath, and she wiped a light layer of sweat from her forehead before then placing her other hand upon the man's shoulder. "Almost there, Tio, almost there. You will be home, soon."

Loud, struggling footsteps unexpectedly pierced the air from across the huge room.

She took a sharp intake of breath. "Shite."

Emerging from the same tunnel exit as her and Tio prior was a limping bearded Reiman with nasty, claw-like gashes embedded into his torso and legs. His left arm was ripped off, but his right hand held a stained gladius. "Oh! Can this be? I made it!" he exclaimed, and he held an unhinged look within his fearful eyes.

Emilia felt her heart tightening. _No, not now. Go away! Why are you still alive?_ Her fingers flexed uncomfortably.

The Reim slaver's heavy breathing was heard from such a distance. "It's you again, it's –" His widened eyes took a gander at Tio's corpse, and that was when he broke out into cruel laughter. "Serves him right for leading that monster to us!"

Despising herself for what she was about to do, the girl reached over and unsheathed the Torran's gladius. _Leave us alone._

"And where might this monster be, little girl?!" The newcomer continued to limp in her direction.

Glaring with sudden hatred, she rose to her feet and proceeded to walk towards the man. _And here I was hoping that the day's killing was at an end._

His laugh was insanely gleeful. "But no matter, no matter; that Torran bastard is dead! Such a lovely sight!"

Emilia noticed how his pupils were fixed upon Tio's remains. She gritted her teeth; she wanted to cry; she wanted to scream. "You get away from him!" she raged when he thrusted his sword at her. Holding Tio's blade with two hands, she easily blocked the attack; spinning away from him and simultaneously taking advantage of his limping leg by throwing her foot out and sweeping the Reiman off of his balance.

She kicked his blade away when he attempted to crawl after it; and before he could utter even one single word, his throat was rudely gifted with a deep slash. Some blood splattered against her dirty dress. Turning her back on that new cadaver, she hugged herself as she slowly trailed back to Tio; almost feeling dead on the inside as a couple of tears slowly cascaded down her cheeks.

 _Emi, Emi,_ a couple of Rukh peeped as they flapped by her head. _Don't despair, don't despair!_

"I'm not Falling," she whispered to herself; sniffling. "Not so soon after coming back to life again; this isn't enough to make me do it. _I will not Fall_." She was repeating that final sentence to herself as a little mantra until she reached Tio. "Sorry that took some time, Tio." Sheathing his gladius, she once again lifted his shoulders and dragged him through the dark doors.

The inside of the chamber was a large rectangular room filled with innumerable amounts of treasures that had currently took the form of carved stone. The entirety of the walls, floor and ceiling were of shiny black marble; and along the walls, were sconces that were all filled with bright fire. In the center of the room, a flight of twenty dark marble steps led to a dais where what looked to be a sword was sticking out from the ground. _Okay, that has to be the Metal Vessel. This son of a tart better be worth it!_

 _Hurry, hurry! Awaken the Djinn; awaken the Djinn!_ The Rukh were excited.

Reaching the base of the steps, Emilia carefully lowered Tio's upper body upon the smooth floor before then plodding up the stairs. The sword that had greeted her was lodged into the very centre of the dais; its' overall design was elegant, yet it held a simplicity to it as well. Absent a cross-guard, it was a long and slender weapon wherein slightly curved at the bottom – the shape of it reminded her of the type of sword that she would have expected of one of J.R.R. Tolkien's elves to have wielded. The metal blade was of an obsidian black colour; and so was the hilt of it, only said hilt also owned some delicate strips of gold wherein were embedded into and around it. Laid atop the ground in front of the sword was a corresponding metallic scabbard that was also obsidian black in colour, and its' locket and chape were of gold.

Emilia eyed the pale golden glowing of the eight-pointed star that was found in the centre of the blade before then stroking it with the backs of her fingers. Instantly, the room now radiated splendidly with the shimmering of gold, jewels, and other valuable items.

"Mongrel who so rudely rouses me from my slumber!" boomed a mass of bright blue smoke that was in the midst of emerging from the Metal Vessel. "Name yourself at once so that I may properly mourn your death should I decide to kill you."

Emilia wanted to face-palm herself, but she opted to grip at the short skirts of her dress, instead. _Such haughtiness. I am really not in the mood . . ._

The aforementioned smoke materialized into a light blue-skinned male Djinn with an unsurprisingly well-toned body and quite the handsome face. Gold decorated his figure: Rings upon his fingers; earrings all along his ears; bracelets and armlets in ornate designs, as well as a couple of anklets; a wide choker around his neck; two round piercings shoved through both of his nipples, and a thick and wide belt that was wrapped around his waist and upper hips. From said belt flared a long, white kilt-like garment that bore a close resemblance to an Ancient Egyptian-styled shendyt. His ears were not elongated, but they each held a delicate elven point to them. Withal, his eyes were of the same bright and piercing ice-blue as Emilia's, and his wild and wavy hair – which was so long that it had surpassed his buttocks – was a snow-like white; although due to him being a Djinn, it came as no surprise that it also had a natural pale blue tint in it. His third eye was clearly displayed upon his forehead for all to see.

But what stood out to Emilia the most was the fact that this Djinn looked like David Jehoahaz Abraham. Not exactly like him, per se, but if someone were to say that they had shared the same blood, she would believe them. _At least this one has eyebrows,_ she thought wryly. _Besides, why fret over something so trivial? That Womanizer Djinn, Focalor, looks like Sinbad, but they don't secretly share any ancestry._

 _Anomaly, anomaly,_ chirped some of the Rukh that fluttered around him.

"Hm." The Djinn seemed to be regarding their words as he scrutinized her with an almost arrogant-looking expression. He hovered in the air with both of his legs crossed and his arms folded over his abdomen. "State your name, child," he demanded in an imperious tone, "I will not ask thrice."

"Emilia Walker," she responded flatly.

"I will refer to you as 'Emilia,' then. Should I wish to, that is." He smirked almost mockingly. "A human who was born in a world not of this one nor of Alma Torran; who has died and was somehow able to travel over here, oh, how fascinatingly amusing!"

After all that had happened within this accursed Dungeon, she was really, _really_ not in the mood. She only wanted to hurry up and get out.

 _Knows the future; knows the future,_ the Rukh in which had surrounded the Djinn stated.

 _Not a threat; not a threat,_ defended the Rukh surrounding Emilia.

Raising a brow, the Djinn vaguely cocked his head to the side. "Explain now, child."

"In my world, there are books written about what I had thought was only a fictional fantasy world. Clearly, that was no longer the case since waking up here."

"David was able to discern the future – not that he was capable of truly seeing everything; however, he was naturally able to see any kind of phenomenon wherein had belonged to the future due to devoutly studying the paths."

The girl scowled. "As I had just mentioned: _Fictional stories in my world_. Many people have read these ones back home. I am not, like, a female David or something."

He shook his head; seeming a bit amused by her last sentence. "No, you are most definitely not. I would know."

"You still haven't introduced yourself like a proper-mannered Djinn!"

Said Djinn looked irritated. "Do not demand something of me in such an audacious fashion, dirty mongrel child! I will decide what will be next said. Now, what is your wish?"

Rolling her eyes, Emilia crossed her arms. "Nothing. I just want to leave."

"Just so."

She was taken aback. "Wait, what? You are just consenting to this King Vessel-Djinn bond just like that?"

"Naturally," breezed his nonchalant response. "I wish to breathe the free airs again; and I refuse to have you undergo that idiotic 'final challenge' shite that the Djinns are supposed to do once possible Candidates touch our stars. The less time to waste, the better, and I am no entertainer!"

 _Hm, I might end up liking this Djinn; but for now, he is too haughty and demanding for my taste._ The corners of Emilia's lips twitched a bit at his blatant desperation to leave this underground place. "And what if, say, a person with obvious negative intentions stood before you instead of me – would you accept him or her?"

She wanted to laugh at how positively offended this Djinn looked. "No you stupid child, I have standards! I would merely impale the cur after reading into it," came his arrogantly-toned answer.

"' _It_?'"

"Humans or other beings that I deem unworthy of my goodwill for whatever reasons I see fit."

Emilia was incredulous for a moment. This Djinn was most definitely going to be a piece of work to deal with! _Oh, well, as long as he does his job, then . . ._

He looked upon her with an intrigued expression. "My name is 'Mephistopheles'; however, you will address me by my shortened moniker of 'Mephisto,' as I greatly prefer it."

 _And so His Highness commands._ Miraculously, she abstained from actually vocalizing that. "Fair enough." But his name did sound a little "off," so to speak. All of the seventy-two Djinns owned names from the Ars Goetia; and although not knowing even a quarter of those names herself, she knew that 'Mephistopheles' was not in there.

"I am the Maker of Contracts; the Djinn of Elegance and Equanimity, and my main elements are of ice and fire. This Dungeon is unnumbered."

Shaking her head, the girl fixed an intense glare up towards Mephisto. "You and this Dungeon are not supposed to exist!"

"Such impertinence." Sighing, the icy blue-eyed being _tsk_ ed irately. "'Twas a mere fictional story in your world, indeed! But this is your reality now; do not expect everything to stay the same, mongrel!"

A literal headache was beginning to develop for Emilia from listening to this male's way of speaking. She sighed and calmed herself down. "Yeah, you're right. I should have already considered something like this as being a possibility, and so I apologize for the insult."

The way that the snowy white-haired Djinn gazed down upon her was somewhat haughty. "I accept your apology; after all, I can understand your shock." And then his pupils trailed behind her. "Who is this?" His massive arm extended above her; lifting Tio's body up from the base of the black marble stairs and placing him upon the dais five centimetres from Emilia's dirty and cut feet.

"My friend and instructor, Tio of the Torran Tribe," she answered sombrely whilst casting her gaze downwards towards Tio's peaceful face. "He died after the two of use managed to open the treasure chamber's doors, and so I had to drag him all of the way here. I wasn't going to leave him here – I wanted to return him to his home."

Mephisto fixated upon her with a very slight hint of satisfaction. "Such loyalty is admirable," he said earnestly before then clearing his throat. "Very well, then! I will make this contract with you and have you become my King's Vessel."

The Rukh were happy. _Free, free!_

Procuring a sigh of relief, Emilia smiled a sad one when she looked at Tio once more. _Finally, we will be leaving. I won't be stuck in here, and I can bring Tio back!_

Mephisto's obnoxious _tch_ interrupted her from her thoughts. "Child," he began firmly, "Do not make the mistake of confusing my magnanimity as something that I wish to do for your sake! This is merely for me to see Solomon's new world in detail and to return to freedom; or rather, as much as this form of freedom will offer me."

"And do not presume that my sigh of relief is my gratitude towards you, Djinn!" she snapped. "I will be blunt with you: It was never in my true intentions to come here. I do _not_ want you at all, but due to my circumstances, I am forced to have you. As I'm not a magician, your power shall prove to be most beneficial for me."

He glared at her in shock; disgusted with her manner towards him. She glowered at him in annoyance; exhausted from this whole Dungeon ordeal.

Mephisto's boisterous laughter suddenly exploded throughout the chamber, and his golden jewellery clinked. The tittering was at first ridiculing, but then it turned into something more lighthearted. He even wiped a tear from his right eye. "I do not see any metal on you," he observed after composing himself. "Do you have anything hiding under that dress?"

The Otherworlder shook her head. "No, but I have a few earrings. Although, I would rather they not be touched."

With a bold gaze, he procured an unyielding smile. "Nor would I have any intention of doing as such, for I refuse to part with my precious item."

That had piqued her interest. She gestured to the obsidian black sword. "You mean you had actually used this in Alma Torran?"

"'Twas once a much larger blade until it and my sheath were broken. The larger fragments that had managed to survive from being completely shattered into dust were re-forged into what you see before you. Its' new form is, I think, something that should suit someone of your build rather well." His reminiscing face morphed into one of utmost seriousness. "Child, knowing that your new Metal Vessel was once my treasured sword, I want you to care for it greatly. Nothing must damage it; I will not stand for even once scratch."

Rolling her eyes, Emilia sighed tiredly. "I know, I know. Jeez. Do you really think that I would purposely damage something like this? It's a beautiful sword."

Grinning smugly, that final comment seemed to have inflated Mephisto's ego. "Naturally, you would indeed think that! I happen to possess such excellent taste; ergo, expect nothing less."

 _Yunan, save me._ Emilia bit her lip.

The Djinn lightly tapped at the black hilt of the sword with his left index finger. "With my Magoi, I shall now have us leave this unrefined and dismal place."

A figurative dark cloud lifted from the girl at the thought of her finally leaving, and of Tio being returned home.

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It was hot again; the birds chirped in the far distance; the sun blazed as brightly as it had always done within the Dark Continent, and the breeze owned a surprisingly vague chill to it.

With her new Metal Vessel at her side, Emilia sat upon her knees and shins atop the golden brown sand with Tio's head upon her lap; the fingers from her right hand woven through his short dark brown hair. Large, medium and small light brown sacks filled with all of the Dungeon's treasures surrounded her. They were all in this rounded indent within the earth from which the Dungeon had once stood. Looking up at the top of the cliff, she noticed that the bearded Torran Chief, and the warriors that had flanked him, all gazed down upon her and Tio with surprise, sorrow, and even a bit of joy at seeing that this Dungeon was captured by someone trustworthy that they know rather than some stranger who might do their village harm.

The Rukh around her chirped mirthfully.

Dispirited once again, her head lowered, and her eyes re-met Tio's shut eyelids. She did feel guilty about the warrior's death. And then Yunan's voice sounded to her left. She did not know what he had said. He spoke again in a worried tone, asking if he may use his healing magic for her wounds. The girl did not answer, but the Magi healed them anyways. He had even managed to close Tio's injuries, as well.

The first thing Emilia did once she returned to the Torran Village was having a bath – one of the girls, whom she had spent quite a bit of time sparring with in the past, even assisted her in scrubbing out the dried blood in which had stubbornly refused to come out at first. When she finished, Emilia clothed herself in her long dress with the slitted skirts and the dark blue sash. Near her, she caught sight of a pair of new, well-made flat black shoes – Yunan's work, most likely. Due to the severe state of her short dress, it was thrown out and burned.

Emilia was then given food (she purposely avoided the meat) and drink, but she did not consume much. The Chief asked her about Tio's death and of what exactly happened within that Dungeon, to which she procured detailed answers for him (Tono and Maire were there, too). For the remainder of the afternoon, she kept to herself. Concerned for her wellbeing, Yunan stayed around the village as well, keeping an eye on her from a distance . . .

When twilight came, the village gathered around a funeral pyre where a freshly-washed Tio lay. His linens were changed; his weapons were cleaned, and some of his more valued personal items surrounded him. The solemn elder chief with sorrowful black eyes then recited an eulogy for his nephew, honouring the veteran warrior before then honouring some of the other Torrans who had ignored his decree and entered the Dungeon prior to Tio, but have unfortunately never returned.

Vivid memories of Mephisto's Dungeon returned to the forefront of Emilia's mind, and she had to bite her lower lip. She did not want to cry in front of all of these people, and she felt Yunan's gaze upon the back of her head.

Before long, the pyre was ignited, and Tio's body disappeared into the flames, along with his personal effects and his weapons – sans his gladius, however. Earlier that day, Emilia politely asked the Torran Chief if he would not include the sword in the burning of Tio's corpse. When asked why, she only said that the matter was actually very important, and that she shall speak to him on the morrow as that would give her time to relax her mind and to properly think things through.

The stars were plentiful and shimmering during the late feast. Crickets made their sounds. Ten minutes in, the chief spoke again: As always, he began with giving thanks to King Solomon. And then he called Emilia forward. Almost hesitating, the fair-haired girl walked and stood by the short, elderly man with her eyes casted down.

He publically honoured her for succeeding in capturing that Dungeon before then expressing such gratitude towards her for returning Tio's body to them. The desire to cry proceeded to swell within her again, yet she held it back for the nth time. At the end of it all, the chief then officially named her a true friend and ally to the Torran People. The villagers rose their cups with welcoming, amiable and happy faces because after all of these many weeks, they were now starting to see her the same way that they would see Yunan.

Tono, Maire, and their spouses talked with Emilia for a couple of minutes, and then some of the youths and elders approached her. A few children jumped around her and played with her hair. She was even approached by Tio's warrior friends and they, too, expressed their appreciation for her returning his body. Throughout it all, she masked her sadness with a composed expression and a polite smile, yet all she wanted to do was to go to sleep.

Emilia barely ate a thing throughout the feast; and with what little she did chew on, she avoided meat as that would have elicited her tearing-that-Reim-slaver's-throat-out memory.

She was one of the first people to leave the feast. Hugging herself in her unhurried steps, she meandered through the pathways and around tipis. Turning to where Tio's tipi was, she was glad that it had not been taken down as of yet. Entering through the flaps, she noticed that his rugs were still here, too. And his bedding. Her bedding, travel bag and Metal Vessel were within the back left side of the tipi, but she stepped towards his things to the right. Flinging her shoes off and not bothering to change into her night-tunic, she set out his brown woven mat and fluffed out his pillow before laying down on her side, facing the walls of her instructor's home . . .

"Little one, the night is chilly," came a serene voice. Slowly, Yunan entered the tipi and saw the girl's back. She did not answer.

A few silent Rukh were perched upon her head and shoulder.

Lowering his magician's staff and placing his floppy forest green hat by it, the Magi pulled off his brown leather boots before then kneeling atop the rugs behind Emilia. His lips twitched downwards when he heard her quietly sniffle. "Here, you must cover yourself." He lifted a cream-coloured blanket and brought it over her slightly quivering body.

Yunan knew that she was still awake. He also knew that she desired to be alone. He, however, was not about to leave. With a delicate hand, he tenderly stroked the hair upon her head; and when he pulled back a tendril wherein was draped across her face, he felt a bit of wetness.

"Yunan . . ." she murmured and, to him, she sounded as though she was attempting to control her sobs.

"Yes, little one?" came his benign voice.

She sniffled again. "May I . . . A-ask that you b-be my pillow for the n-night?"

"You may." He felt genuine concern for her.

When Emilia shifted her position so that her body now faced him, his blue eyes softened as soon as they met her pained, tear-stained face. Before he could adjust himself, the girl rose her body slightly upwards, instantly leaning forward and resting her face against his lower chest. Her hands gripped at his forest green tunic.

Yunan's arms encircled her whilst she cried.

For Emilia, his soothing presence was most welcome, and it did help her in succumbing into a deep sleep. Unfortunately, it did not stop the nightmares from coming, the flashes of that terrifying beast; of all of that killing; of her doing something so animalistic to that Reiman's throat; and most of all, of Tio dying in her arms.

A little less than ten hours have passed when Emilia was inside of the Dungeon; however, one full month of the real world flew by. It was now the middle of May. Subsequently, she ended up capturing Mephistopheles' Dungeon merely one hour after Baal's tower was conquered.

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D So, I actually really liked writing Tio, his development with Emilia, and their interactions together . . . And then I go kill him off too soon. *whines* Why do I do this to myself?! ***

*** After Note II – On Emilia becoming a King Vessel: When writing a modern-person-ends-up-in-a-fictional-world fanfic, I am undoubtedly going to take advantage of the fantasy elements. I didn't want her to be a surprise secret fifth Magi because that mostly doesn't interest me (although, a realistically-planned and well-written one is another matter. If there are any lurking about, feel free to virtually shove one in my face). xD I didn't want to make her a magician either 'cause I more so wanted her to develop into a good enough fighter with a Djinn by her side. So yeah. King Vessel. I haven't read a lot of _Magi_ fanfiction so far, so I don't know how common the main-OC-gets-a-Djinn idea is done, but oh well. If it is or isn't, I don't care. All that matters to me is if it's done well, and, of course, having fun~ ***

*** After Note III – On Mephistopheles: Though I've taken the liberty to create a seventy-third Djinn/Dungeon realm, I am keeping with "tradition" by giving this OC a demon name; albeit, not one derived from the Ars Goetia since it houses seventy-two beings. Mephisto is from German folklore, originally appearing in the Faust legend. Despite this fanfic eventually containing many AU qualities as it goes on, why would I create an extra Djinn if only a select few of the original seventy-two were actually characterized and given to certain canon characters? My answer is a bit of a random one: It's just a very addicting name to say, and I do very much like the aesthetic of the spelling. *avoids eye contact* Don't judge me; it's not my fault that Mephisto isn't part of the seventy-two, LOL. xD Not to mention that writing in a character with a history of mischief and deal-making does have a certain appeal for me. But I actually have also developed a lot of plans for him, so there's that. =3 ***

…

 **Guest:** First off – FOR REAL?! HOW FABULOUS. \\(*0*)/ But that's kind of too bad, though; I hope they get translated sometime soon, then. As much as I love the original _Magi_ series, I am liking the Sinbad-focused prequel a little more, actually. x3 Thanks for letting me know. And LOL, yes, always thinking about food is me as well. Food is . . . I have no words to describe such heavenly beauty. Thanks for reviewing, and have a great week~! :D

 **Lina:** I apologize, but . . . What is this, 'follow her,' that you speak of? o.o Anyways, thank you very much, and have a great week~! =D

 **Guest:** Thank you very much, and I hope you have a great week~! :D

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	5. The Refined Art Of Crashing Into People

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

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 **~ 004 – The Refined Art Of Crashing Into People ~**

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"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jewelled vision of a life started anew."

~ Aberjhani, _The River of Winged Dreams_

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The bustling activity from the villagers conversing and going about their morning business was mostly muffled through the Torran Chief's tipi. The elder reclined into his nest of fluffed pillows; his son, Tono, sat kneeled to his right; and his daughter, Maire, sat kneeled to his left. "Come, child, sit," came the chief's cordial voice. "There is a matter I should like to discuss with you, and I believe that you had desired to speak with me, as well?"

Atop the colourful rugs, Emilia kneeled before them; placing her leathery, dark brown travel bag and her new elven-looking, obsidian black sword to her side. Her eyelids were a little puffy from last night's crying. "Yes, Chief. Please, I insist that you begin first." For a quick second, her pupils trailed to a bundle of cloth that laid between the old man and Tono. Something wooden and slender laid upon it.

"You have trained well and incessantly with Tio these past few months, and your skills have greatly improved. However, your training is incomplete," he stated solemnly with saddened eyes. "Should you wish for it, I can arrange for another one of my better warriors to continue from where my nephew has left off and have you complete it?"

"I thank you for this offer," the girl calmly expressed, "But I must respectfully decline."

"If this is related to your guilt of Tio's death, know that there is no one here who faults you for it!" a concerned Maire interjected.

Pausing for a quick moment, Emilia thought about how to respond in a way wherein displayed more tact than bluntness. "Yes, I . . . I know. But after all that had happened inside of that Dungeon, I feel like I need to . . . Get away. The memories are so fresh, they still pain me." She wanted to leave this continent, actually. At least for now – returning for a visit in perchance a year was definitely likely; but since waking up this morn and taking a good, long look at her Metal Vessel, a sense of wanderlust was rekindled within her. She had the protection now, so why not? Besides, adventuring around would definitely have her improve upon all that she had learned here.

She continued: "I want to travel, to open my horizons more and to see if I can rebuild my life."

The Torran Chief's black eyes sparkled. He was probably smiling, but Emilia could not know for sure due to that giant white beard. "I am delighted that this is your decision, Emilia; I had hoped that it would be so. I am unable to communicate with the Rukh, but I see them, and they have always flocked to you almost the same way that they do to Yunan. It is not your destiny to become a warrior for this village; your destiny is out there, and for someone such as you to remain here would simply not do."

 _Fate, fate,_ chirruped a few Rukh.

 _Again with this world's inhabitants talking about destiny!_ Emilia thought with abrupt annoyance before then procuring a small and grateful smile. "Thank you for your understanding."

"You are most welcome, young one." The venerable man then vaguely turned his face towards his dark brown-haired son.

On cue, Tono lifted that slim wooden thing from atop the bundled white cloth. "As you very well know," he began as he presented to her a curved long dagger sheathed within a dark brown wooden scabbard. "This type of dagger is only wielded by our warriors, and it is bestowed upon one who had just completed their training by one's instructor." Absent a cross-guard, the hilt was also of a sturdy dark brown wood, and it contained engravings in the Torran Script. "The etchings in Torran by the top of the hilt contain the name of the weapon's new owner, and the ones at the bottom display the name of the teacher."

Eyes widening, the Otherworlder shook her head. "But I'm not officially a warrior for your village; I have not completed the training!"

"Relax, Emilia." Tono gifted her with an encouraging smile. "As Father previously mentioned, you were never meant to stay here, but you have trained well. Yunan only wanted for you to learn a few things, yet my dear cousin decided to take your education much, much further and he taught you a lot more than what was originally planned." He extended his arm with the dagger. "Besides . . . Despite tradition, Tio did make it for you."

Her surprise was clearly evident on her face. "Did he, now?"

"Well, the hilt and sheath he carved and perfected. Tio had the blade be forged by one of our smiths, though."

Gingerly accepting the curved long dagger with both of her hands, she proceeded to feel this comforting warmth on the inside, and she expressed her heartfelt gratitude. Whilst she tucked it in at her waist through her dark blue sash, Tono lifted that bundle of white cloth that seemed as though it was wrapped around something long. He placed it upon his lap.

"Wrapped inside is Tio's sword," the chief's son added. "It and the scabbard have been thoroughly cleaned, and the blade was just re-sharpened."

The Torran Chief gave Emilia an expectant stare. She rested her hands on top of her lap. "That is actually related to another reason why I wanted to start travelling the world now," she began with a hint of nervousness. She hoped that she was not prying further than what was acceptable, but this was weighing on her mind so heavily. "As Tio lay dying, he conveyed how training me had brought back the feelings and memories of teaching his son, but his newborn perished shortly after birth, did he not?" She noticed how Maire, especially, looked uncomfortable. "Did Tio have another son?"

The inside of the tipi now held an atmosphere of dejection. The black-haired woman was the first to speak: "Tiono would have been your age this year. Five years ago, he was suddenly taken by slavers. Tio almost died trying to get him back – six weeks have passed before he was fully healed from his injuries."

"His healing would have lasted longer if it were not for Yunan deciding to visit us at that time," the elder chief supplemented.

"There was no way of knowing where his son was taken to, or if he was even still alive. Much time had passed, after all," Maire continued gently. "And so a crestfallen Tio made the decision to stay here as his wife was heavily pregnant."

"I had wished that, that wasn't the case, but I should have expected something like that," Emilia said bitterly. "How long did Tio own this sword for?"

"Since he was fifteen."

The answer satisfied the fair-haired girl. "Tiono should be able to recognize it, then."

A sharp intake of breath was heard from Tono. "If he is even still alive right now!"

"You may be surprised at how much a slave can endure. Yes, Tiono might be dead; he might have been dead for a while now. Or, he is still alive, maybe he was freed – or had escaped – and was trying to find his way back." Emilia's eyes held determination when she turned to the Torran Chief. "With my travelling, I wish to find this long-lost son of my dear instructor and friend."

The elder fixated upon her intensely. "And if you never find him?"

"Then I will return Tio's sword to you. If I do find him, I'll bring him here."

"Tono, give the sword to her." Emilia graciously accepted the cloth-bound weapon, and the chief continued: "I offer you my most sincere gratitude. Good hunting, Emilia."

"Thank you, Village Chief, Tono and Maire." Grip tightening around the white fabric, she lowered her head in respect to them. "And I must thank you once more for allowing me to learn from here these past few months."

Tono smiled amicably. "It really was a pleasure having Yunan's child here. You will be a most welcome guest should you decide to visit us again."

For the nth time, the girl thanked them. "I would like say my proper farewells to the villagers; but before then, I will say one more thing to you: The treasures from the Dungeon – keep them."

The trio within the bright tipi seemed to be a bit shocked. "But they are the fruits of your labour!" Maire exclaimed with some hesitation. "Will you take nothing?"

Emilia procured a small half-smile. "For me, the Djinn is all I really need right now; but just in case, I do have a sack of gold coins in my bag." She also took a choker to hide that long and wide pink-red scar that was stretched across her throat. Already wearing it around her neck, it was merely a simple gold strip absent any form of decoration. "Besides, Tio did half of the work, so it's only fair."

…

"I am also happy to hear that such was your decision."

After five long minutes of sauntering through the warm, shade-filled forest, Emilia's ears caught Yunan's cheery voice. "So you _did_ hear all of that . . . And what would you have done if I took the chief's offer and stayed there a while longer?" she pondered; turning to her right to see the Magi walking by her side.

"Then I would have tried to convince both you and the chief that having you explore the world more would be the better option."

 _Adventure, adventure!_ the excited Rukh chirped.

She procured a half-amused smirk. "Thought as much."

The Magi's smile dropped. "Do you despise me?"

"And why would I? I have no reason to hate you, Yunan; you rose that Dungeon for my sake, after all." To her left, she took a gander at a kaleidoscope of tiny, creamy white and shiny black butterflies that were flapping around. "Other people choosing to traverse inside is not my doing, and technically, it's not really your doing, either."

"Yet you cannot help but feel some sort of guilt for Tio's death," came his melancholic observation.

Quiet and a little saddened, Emilia ceased in her tracks. "Thank you for being my pillow last night." She held a little light pink blush when she said that.

"'Twas a pleasure, little one." Smiling warmly at her, Yunan gently took her wrist from the hand that was carrying her Metal Vessel. It was almost completely pitch-black in three seconds, and before the two now stood the Magi's small log house with tranquil, pale candlelight emanating through the windows.

Entering the cozy home, Emilia took in a deep breath. It has been a while since she had last seen this place. Passing by the large cacti, she made her way towards the log staircase.

"Did you already break your fast?" came the platinum blond man's smooth and soft voice form behind her.

She turned around. "I did." Although, once again, she avoided consuming any meat. It did not do well to eat it right after waking up from a dream that involved her tearing out that Reim slaver's throat with her bare teeth.

"Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you," she responded rather flatly after five seconds. Absentminded, she was staring at his boots. "Sorry, I just want to be alone right now."

Yunan frowned, although it looked more like a pout than a frown. "That is alright. Please, go ahead." And Emilia climbed the stairs.

Twenty minutes after laying in her small yet cozy bed, the Rukh began to chirp: _Yunan left, Yunan, left . . ._

For the next few hours, the girl spent her time drawing in her sketchbook and perusing through some more of Yunan's books and scrolls; when suddenly, the light blue-eyed Magi just randomly appeared before her, sitting atop the sheets upon her mattress. "Oh, Yunan!" she slightly rose her voice in surprise.

He was grinning. "You look a little better!" came his peppy voice. "Come, little one, I should like to take you somewhere." And he took her left hand.

 _The Fanalises, the Fanalises,_ a few mirthful Rukh peeped.

They were now a few feet away from the right side of his house, and their eyes fixated into the ostensibly never-ending darkness. The girl's mouth widened into an 'O' shape for a couple of seconds. "The land south of the Great Rift is in this direction, right?" She almost could not believe that he was about to take her there right now considering that, many weeks ago, he was adamant in regards to not bringing her there.

"It is!" the Magi responded cheerily.

She smirked. "And you said that normal humans wouldn't be able to traverse there! I knew that wasn't true, by the way."

He tittered. "And I knew that that you knew. I must apologize for the lie, I was not in the best of health – emotionally, that is."

"I could tell. Was the dream really that bad?"

"Not bad, per se, it was only a memory of my first meeting with Ugo . . ." He held a mournful expression while his voice trailed into silence. His words had piqued her interest, yet she held herself from prying any further and had instead entwined her fingers with his.

In ten seconds, sunlight and a cool breeze surrounded them – it smelled of fresh spring and there was even a hint of a honey-like scent. The dew upon the lush grass and flora perceived the nature as being embedded with diamonds. Some of the plants to the far left were quite strange to Emilia; the overall appearances of the majority did not look like any she had seen from her original world. They were all fascinating, but she thought that those huge bush-things that very much resembled octopus tentacles were just plain creepy. To their front and right was land that was a bit more open-spaced than jungle-like. Hills of various sizes littered the vicinity; and weird-sounding birds tweeted in far distances, hidden from their eyes.

As soon as she let go of Yunan's hand, an oversized light pink butterfly with black-and-white leopard-styled spots flapped in her face. "Ah, no more butterflies!" she yelled whilst pivoting away in a brief panic and hiding behind Yunan.

The Magi tittered. "Aww, what's wrong?"

Glaring up at the back of his head, she huffed. "In the Dungeon, there were these small fireballs that took the shape of butterflies – they tried to burn me alive."

"Oh, my . . . Well, these ones will not hurt you." He turned around with an innocent smile and a mischievous gleam from within his eyes. That giant insect then landed upon his right shoulder and nuzzled against his cheek. "See? Not dangerous at all!"

Emilia merely glared at it, to which it then proceeded to speak. Not in human words, however; it was rather odd, said words sounded more like high-pitched, playful giggling one would expect would come from faeries. There were a _lot_ of those giant butterflies, actually. Fluttering from the greenery and in the skies, they were all a colourful bunch; some also owned spots along their wings, other had stripes, swirls, or had even possessed wings of multiple colours.

Yunan turned and began to stroll at a leisurely pace. Emilia followed suit; her eyes still narrowed towards that pink butterfly atop his shoulder (much to her comical dismay, it would not stop staring at her).

From the grassy ridge did the duo come to a halt after thirty minutes of walking. Blushing out of excitement, the girl's breath caught as she stared down far below, for there were a few Fanalises in their truest forms.

They seemed like such deadly and powerful creatures, yet they were utterly gorgeous and unique-looking, and they held an almost tranquil aura about them. Their eyes were of red-pink, and their glossy fur was of white, deep red, and this distinctive shade of red wherein held a bit of pink in it. Huge red lions they were indeed (although, their elongated muzzles and long, pointed ears were nearly wolf-like); and unlike the lions from her world, both of the male and female Fanalises of all ages owned lengthy, flowing manes.

Emilia relinquished being irritated when the oversized butterfly flapped from Yunan's shoulder and landed upon her head.

The ears on two of the adult Fanalises twitched and, in a split second, they turned their faces; their pupils staring straight up towards –

"Yunan, is that you?!" hollered the female Fanalis. "It's been a year since last we saw you; come down!"

The Magi offered her his arm and smiled. "Shall we, little one?"

She ended up staying there for the remainder of the day.

.

* * *

.

 _Mmm, that broiled salmon was divine!_

Swallowing the remainder of her cold water and placing the white clay cup atop Yunan's desk, Emilia stretched out her arms whilst glancing towards her bed, where the new clothes that the Magi had just crafted for her laid upon. _Wow, Yunan really is like a fairy godmother_ . . . Her opened travel bag leaned against the foot of the bed, and so did Mephistopheles' elven-like sword and Tio's cloth-wrapped gladius. A couple of quiet Rukh perched on top of both of the pommels. The pale golden candlelight illuminated the room.

Her mind faded to yesterday's events for a couple of moments. _I know I said that I'd want to travel the world and rebuild my own life while trying to find Tio's missing son, but a part of me just wants to stay below the Great Rift with the Fanalises; avoiding all human contact for the rest of my life except for Yunan and the Torran Peoples._

Unexpectedly, a half-unimpressed, half-amused masculine voice floated into her subconscious: _Tsk_ , _mongrel child, how will you properly grow otherwise?_

 _As an adult who is stuck inside of a youth's body for the time being, I don't really have that much growing to do– wait. WAIT._

 _Hold on!_

 _Mephisto, is that you?_

 _Can you say that again? Hahaha, I do not think that I heard your entire sentence, there!_

 _Don't answer my question with a question!_ One of Emilia's fears was coming into fruition, and said fear included getting to the point wherein she would finally be hearing her Djinn's voice within her mind. Naturally, such a development would not have been a dread if her Djinn had not owned his . . . Colourful personality.

 _Hm, I shall choose to ignore your manner of response,_ came Mephisto's imperious voice. _But yes, 'tis I, your Djinn. I am pleased that we can finally communicate like this . . . Now, what was this about being older than what you are?_

Grumbling, Emilia strolled to her bed and unbuttoned her baggy white night-tunic. She draped it along the bedpost. _I was twenty-five when I had died. I've thankfully retained my mind upon coming to this world, but what I am now is basically what I had looked like when I was thirteen years old,_ the girl mentally recited as she donned her bottom in white underwear before then wrapping a breast band around her chest.

Obnoxious laughter reverberated throughout her head. _Such a blow to your pride and dignity this must be!_

 _Oh, begone with you, insufferable Djinn!_

 _As you wish, my unbearable King._

Mephisto's chortling dissipated and Emilia almost wanted to laugh at the conversation. Shaking her head, she fitted herself into a formfitting dark lavender tunic with long sleeves that were cuffed around her wrists. Said shirt greatly resembled Yunan's, especially with the wide white collar exposing the middle of her chest in a deep, V-shaped neckline – she actually liked the design of it, and she did not at all mind the neckline as her black breast band firmly held her parts in place. In a couple of seconds, she laced and buttoned on a pair of formfitting, high-waisted white breeches; tucking in the bottom of her purple tunic in the process before then fitting a slender, black leather belt through the loops. Placing her gold choker around her neck and adjusting her earrings, she then shoved her feet into a pair of sturdy, knee-high black leather boots.

Making sure that she had what she needed, the girl then rummaged through the pockets of her travel bag: There were thin leather hair strips, hair pins and a boar-bristled hairbrush; her sketchbook with some sticks of lead; some spare underwear and breast bands of white and black; her cloth period pads; the sack of gold coins from the Dungeon; her white night-tunic and slitted, long-skirted dress with the dark blue sash, as well as her flat black shoes and a second formfitting tunic that looked like the one she was wearing, only it was a dark blue in colour. She even had her water skin and a few fruit wrapped in some cloth. Withal, the girl managed to stuff in Tio's gladius, but half of it stuck out from the side of the flap when she closed her bag.

Akin to impish faeries, the Rukh proceeded to giggle. _Mini Yunan, mini Yunan!_

When she was done, Emilia gifted herself with one last glance into Yunan's mirror. She could not help but smirk out of amusement. Strolling to her bed once more, she picked up her curved long dagger from Tio and tucked it through her belt by her left hip. She was clasping her Metal Vessel to her black leather sword belt when Yunan appeared a few feet away to her side; a flurry of chirping Rukh suddenly fluttering by.

A playful half-smile graced Emilia's lips. "So, Yunan, I was just thinking about perhaps braiding my hair, buying a large hat, and then changing my name to 'Yuna.' What do you think?" she declared in jest.

"I think my cheeky little one is making fun of me again," Yunan pouted; albeit, his eyes did shine with some lightheartedness. And then he smiled. "But those clothes do become you; I am glad to see that they fit you well."

The thought of her being Yunan's temporary life-sized doll amused her. "Too well. I do really like them, so thank you."

"A pleasure! Crafting them was quite fun." Loosely folding his arms across his lower abdomen, he hugged his magician's staff against his chest.

"By the way . . ." the girl began with a bit of uncertainty as she lifted her sword belt – an adjustable one at that, as per her request, so that she would be able to fit it across her shoulder or around her hips depending on the situation. Because she was about to undergo quite a bit of travelling, she opted to sling it diagonally across her upper torso for now. "I understand and agree with the reasoning behind you raising that Dungeon for me . . . But, is that really all there is?"

When she fixed him with an inquisitive look, the Magi's pupils seemed to be staring at something nonexistent behind her head. "Oh? What do you mean, specifically?"

Shutting the clasp of the belt along her chest, her long, somewhat slender and slightly curved sword now leant comfortably across her back. "Have I also become _your_ choice of King's Candidate?"

"Yes, I have decided it to be so," he murmured after a three-second silence.

She ought to feel honoured, yet his answer greatly irritated Emilia and she turned her body to fully face him. "Why?" she pressed. "I will admit, I don't know how I will be five or ten years in the future; but as of right now, I have no desires relating to making this world a better place, nor of becoming some sort of humanitarian leader. I've nothing to change."

Yunan pondered her words for but a quick moment. 'Nothing to change,' was it? Considering that she held knowledge of future events, he doubted that she would be able to hold herself back for long, especially after she would have developed some meaningful relationships in years to come.

"I am well aware of that," he responded softly, almost inaudibly. There was a brief melancholic look within his light blue eyes before his pupils re-met hers rather intensely, and it made her feel as though he was attempting to peer into her soul. He blinked, and his eyes were tender once again. His smile was one of pity. "Yet, to die and be reborn in the same body with the same consciousness as your first life . . . To me, you are of a kindred spirit."

Ice-blue eyes met the wooden floor in silence. For some unknown reason, those words seemed to have quelled her irritancy (at least, most of it), and a couple of Rukh perched upon her left shoulder. "You sound a bit lonely, there," she commented gently with a softened gaze towards him.

"Did I?" His brief chuckle was vaguely nervous. In hindsight, he reckoned that he probably did.

She took a step towards him. "Yunan –"

"Ne, are you leaving now, Emi? Are you?" Absent any warning, a blur of pink and black flew into Emilia's face, almost literally crashing into her nose. "Ne, ne, how could you without telling me? I was lucky to have woken up right now!" continued the nearly high-pitched voice.

The girl sighed, and a relieved-looking Yunan was both amused and pouty. "I see that you have _finally_ left my potato barrel, Lërynia," he observed in an almost deadpanned tone.

The aforementioned dainty young faerie spun in the air to face the Magi. "Ne, why do you look so annoyed?" she pouted. "It's a comfortable napping place."

"Unacceptable!" Akin to a child who had just witnessed his favourite cake being stolen, Yunan narrowed his eyes towards the small humanoid who had temporarily usurped his favourite resting place. "I've already informed you that my potato barrel is forbidden to everyone other than myself!"

The faerie stuck out her tongue. "Meanie!"

Slinging her travel bag across her shoulders, Emilia calmly observed their bickering with an entertained half-smile. The appearance of this faerie had indeed been quite the surprise: When Yunan returned them to his humble abode after her time spent south of the Great Rift yesterday, that giant light pink butterfly – who had clung to her for most of the day – had been latched onto her shoulder right at that second. In place of the butterfly upon the transition was instead a female faerie with wavy, naturally tousled light pink hair in which came down to her shoulders, as well as a pair of bright silvery eyes. Poking out from her head were pointed and elongated ears. Flat black shoes adorned her feet and her black dress owned no sleeves nor straps. The bodice hugged a part of her torso, and from her upper hips flared skirts that ended merely two inches above her knees. Two golden bangles adorned her wrists. The faerie's beautiful, delicate butterfly-like wings were a translucent white.

" _Hello! My name is Lërynia; pleased to make your acquaintance!"_

" _Uh, likewise. Wait, weren't you just a butterfly one second ago?"_

" _Ne, I'm a faerie! All of those giant butterflies you saw back there are all faeries! My grandmother told me that our ancestors apparently came from this other world called 'Alma Torran'; but upon coming to this one, they all turned into these giant butterflies for some inexplicable reason . . . But it seems like traversing to this side of the Rift returned my body to its' original state . . . Ne, this is exciting!"_

Lërynia's exuberance had been most amusing –

"Emilia!" an agitated Yunan yelled her name, and the suddenness of that almost startled her. "You will take the faerie with you and this will not be a debate!"

 _Sensitive Yunan, sensitive Yunan,_ chirped a few giggling Rukh.

…

The forest above the Great Rift was bathed in shade, yet the air was warm and mostly stagnant. Lackadaisically meandering around sweet-smelling trees and bushes, Emilia brought her left hand up and proceeded to fan herself. "Say, why do you keep saying, 'ne?'"

Perched upon her right shoulder, right by the crook of her neck, the silver-eyed faerie ceased her observational babbling and grinned. One of her tiny hands held onto a lock of Emilia's hair. "Oh, I used to say, 'hey' a lot and then I accidently said, 'ne' one day. It stuck with me since; it's just so much more fun to say!" She leaned against the side of the other's neck and upper jaw. "Ne, didn't that meanie say to wait by the Rift?"

"It will be alright," Emilia responded nonchalantly. No longer still, the breeze was now beginning to feel rather comforting, and the sun started to break through the heads of the trees. "Yunan can easily find me again; he knows this continent the most, after all."

Lërynia hummed merrily. "Ne, so, where did you come from, originally?"

Ah, yes: The question she would forever dread to answer. "Some far-away land that I can never return to."

"Why?"

"Reasons."

The light pink-haired female puffed out her cheeks. "Secrets, secrets, I see . . ." And then she smiled. "Well, if you don't want to say anything about it right now, then I won't pry."

Emilia offered her a small, apologetic smile. "Thank you. And I apologize if my initial response seemed a bit rude."

"Ne, it's fine!"

"By the way . . ." Emerging from a cluster of trees, the Otherworlder found herself in a clearing wherein contained a wide and long dirt road. The right would bring her all of the way back again and near the Torran Village, but turning left would take her further to the northern outskirts of the gargantuan forest and towards the deserts. She turned left and the sun shone brighter. "The things that your grandmother told you about in regards to Alma Torran and your ancestors – do you believe her?"

Lërynia continued to fiddle around with the other's hair. "Well, I didn't at first; but all of the adults say that, that was what happened, and so do the older Fanalises. So yes, I do believe it, but there is still a part of me that is a bit suspicious on the truth of that. Why?" Turning her head, she procured an inquisitive expression. "Do you know something about it?"

Pupils focused on the road beyond, Emilia shrugged. "Merely curious is all. It's all rather fascinating, isn't it? And– oh, look, a cute little fox!"

Releasing her hair, the faerie gasped in elation as her eyes trailed after a fluffy red-and-black canine who was bounding across the dirt road. "Ne, come back!" Lërynia hollered whilst leaping off of an entertained Emilia's shoulder, and she flew towards the deep green bushes where said fox disappeared into.

Continuing to saunter down the wide road, Emilia relished in her lack of company. She did feel bad about indirectly shooing the jovial-natured faerie away for the time being, but she desired to be alone. She had always been one of those people who preferred a good balance of solitude and of spending time with others – with a slight inclination on the latter – yet since her Dungeon escapade, she held this greater want for being alone for most of the time, and the only person she could truly feel calm and safe around was with Yunan.

An extra fifteen minutes of walking found Emilia near the edge of the thinning forest; and from thirty feet away, she saw the road disappearing into the light golden brown sands. _Jeez, Yunan, hurry up! What's taking you so long?_ Taking one last gander towards the desert, she strolled to the side of the road and leant against the bark of one of the thick trees; bathing in the cool shade.

 _Hmm, I do wonder how much this world has changed since the last I had explored these lands_ , Mephisto's pondering voice floated into the forefront of her mind.

Arching a brow, the girl loosely folded her arms across her lower abdomen. _Oh? How long has it been since the last time your Dungeon was captured?_

 _Hundreds of years. This is merely the second time that my Dungeon was risen._

Her eyes trailed after a distant kaleidoscope of flittering sapphire blue butterflies with black edging along their wings. She smirked inwardly. _I can see why. You're overbearingly haughty and a little too diva-like for your own good – not to mention that you seem to derive joy from deriding others._

The sound of shoes jogging along the dirt road was suddenly heard, and the pads of her fingers lightly tapped against the hilt of her dagger.

 _. . . Such audacity from this mongrel child. Consider yourself most fortunate that you have miraculously managed to obtain my great self._

 _Yeah, yeah,_ she brushed off his arrogant words. _Ultimately, you did choose to come with me, though_.

The wind was nearly delicate as it brushed through her hair, and the somewhat distant footsteps neared and took the shape of a tall boy with a sheathed gladius strapped to a brown leather belt around his hips, as well as a brown travelling bag that was slung across his shoulders. His dark brown sandals with straps that trailed up his shins, white kilt-like garment wherein came to an inch or two above his knees, and sleeveless, somewhat baggy burgundy tunic were rather Reim-like in design. Sweat glistened from his light skin in which held a bit of a tan.

A few Rukh tweeted and fluttered happily around him.

Curious, Emilia discreetly glanced across the other side of the road to where the newcomer was catching his breath. His straight, shiny and hip-length hair was a dead giveaway to his Fanalis heritage, for it was this unique shade of red touched by a vague hint of pink. She glanced away to the side as soon as he proceeded to gather himself and look about his surroundings.

 _Are you hoping not to get noticed? Such a futile endeavour,_ came Mephisto's entertained voice. Deep laughter then annoyingly reverberated within her subconscious for the next few seconds.

Left eyebrow jerking, the girl turned her face in the direction of the Fanalis . . . _Holy canon characters, is that Muu Alexius?_ Her eyes widened. _And a young Muu at that!_ Emilia had mused this as soon as her irises met his widened, distinctive red-pink eyes – she had always thought that the simplistic black markings wherein adorned the Fanalises' eyes resembled that of top-quality winged eyeliner done to utmost perfection.

The round silver stud pierced beneath Muu Alexius' lower lip barely twitched when he smiled brightly at her; lifting a hand up in cordial greeting and when she mirrored his action with her right hand, he sauntered towards her and away from the blazing sun. "I hope I am not intruding?" he pondered lightheartedly whilst stepping under the shade in front of her.

Emilia shook her head and looked up. "No, I'm only waiting for someone. Did you just cross the entire desert on foot?"

"Yes, and you are the first human I've seen in days!" he exclaimed with such relief. "I only wish that I knew for sure that I am travelling in the right direction." He had forgotten to bring a map.

Index finger still slowly moving against the smooth wood of her dagger's hilt, she cocked her head to the side. "I take it, then, that you are heading towards the Great Rift?" she feigned ignorance.

Muu's smile was a small one, yet a hint of uncertainty flashed within his eyes. "I am surprised that someone I've never met before seems to be well aware of my intentions."

 _Well, the manga did say that you came here when you were young, so_. . . Composed, she shrugged. "I don't know of any other reason why a Fanalis would be here."

"Fair enough." Smirking, he seemed to relax. "So? Am I heading in the right direction?"

"Oh? You would trust a stranger with such information?"

The fourteen-year-old chuckled. "I doubt that you would lie about something like this. Deception does not suit a cute lady," he replied with confidence.

Emilia almost rolled her eyes as she stubbornly bit her lower lip; suddenly becoming tempted to offer him false information merely to play around, yet she decided against that. A half-smile then donned her face, and she gestured to her left with a thumb. "The Rift is indeed in that direction and there is someone down there who should be able to give you some insight. Much further down this road lies the Torran Village – the people there will be able to give you more detailed directions."

"Is that so?" the boy commented to himself as he gazed down the road before then looking upon Emilia again and smiling. "Muu Alexius." He offered her his hand. "May I know the name of this helpful lady?"

Smirking humorously, she brought forth her hand to his. "Emilia Walker." Normally, she would not reveal her full name to someone she had just met on the road, but this manga-character-who-was-technically-no-longer-a-manga-character was a kindly and trustworthy individual. Not to mention that assisting and developing an acquaintanceship – that may end up turning into a friendship later on – with a young member of the Reim Empire's most esteemed Alexius family might prove to be beneficial in the future. "I hope that I don't come across as rude, but I might have to break your wrist if you try to do that thing that aristocratic men apparently do to ladies' hands upon first greeting," she continued eloquently.

Lightly squeezing her hand, the half-Fanalis made a faux horrified face. "Good grief, no, consider yourself safe from that! I tend to feel awkward whenever I'm forced to that dreaded thing on occasion." Now smirking, he glanced at her thoughtfully. He was not at all surprised that she recognized his family's name. "'Break my wrist,' huh? Are you good?"

Leaves crinkled in the wind and the birds chirped in the distance. "Decent, but I could be better. I do make sure to spend some time each day to continue to hone my skills, though. Are you issuing a challenge?"

"I'm very tempted to."

Emilia pouted. "Being a Fanalis, it would be an easy win for you."

Muu laughed. "We both know that a good mind and technique outweigh raw strength. You might have a chance."

She was close to snickering. _That is quite true . . . Only I'd probably lose anyway to Mr. I-Participate-In-Gladiatorial-Fights-As-A-Freaking-Hobby over here._ "The next time we meet, then? Whenever that may be."

Her words pleased him. "Hopefully neither of us will be otherwise occupied."

"Muu?"

"Yes?"

"Are you ever going to let go of my hand?"

Mouth widening into an 'O' shape for a second, the boy abruptly released her hand. He avoided her slightly mischievous-looking stare. "Ah! Sorry about that; I had not realized . . ." Voice dissipating, he cleared his throat a little too loudly. "Until next time, Emilia," he farewelled. "And thank you for the directions."

"No problem; I hope that you find what you're looking for." _Oh, he will. He most definitely will._

His red-pink eyes held optimism as he turned on his heel. "And I wish you safe travels with your mysterious companion."

She thanked him, and Muu resumed his journey down the wide dirt road; the glaring sun assaulting his stunning red hair once more.

 _To Yunan, to Yunan,_ a couple of Rukh twittered.

"Hm. You've been quiet thus far," she murmured to a Rukh that had landed upon her nose, then flapping away after three seconds.

"Ne, ne, ne, ne, ne, was that a Fanalis? I recognize the aura, but it's strange how he doesn't have nearly as much Magoi as the ones beyond the Rift." Back from her fox-chasing adventure, Lërynia shot out from the trees behind Emilia, and she buzzed around the human's head. "Who was he? I've never seen a Fanalis in human form before – this is so fascinating!"

"Hey, calm yourself!" Scowling, Emilia ducked and stepped backwards onto the road and away from the precious shade. Her left hand gripped the thick strap of her travel bag.

The jubilant faerie flew after her. "Ne, he was handsome-looking! So, who was he?"

"A half-Fanalis, half-Reiman. He was asking for directions to the Rift."

"He wants to traverse the barrier –?"

Yunan randomly appeared between the two young ladies. "Apologies for the tardiness," he began in his usual calm and serene voice. "Someone left faerie dust sprinkled all over my potatoes." He narrowed his eyes in exasperation towards the tiny humanoid.

"It was an accident!" Lërynia stuck out her tongue; flew down to Emilia's side; lifted the side of the flap from the main compartment of her bag, and hid inside.

"Well, then, Yunan," Emilia broke the awkward tension. "You'll be receiving a Fanalis at your door sometime soon."

The Magi looked behind him to where the girl gestured towards, and he managed to catch a quick glimpse at the back of the now far-away Muu. His sigh sounded tired. "It seems as though I must entertain yet another inquisitive soul," came his nonchalant response. He turned to her and whined. "But I don't really feel like talking to a lot of different people today! Could you not have given him the wrong directions to stall him for at least until tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not." She rolled her eyes, albeit an absentmindedly innocent smirk made its' way across her face. "Yunan, I'm not going to do that. Don't be rude!"

"Mean child does not care for my privacy," he mumbled with a pout, and the fingers from his left hand lightly tapped at his magician's staff.

"You mean seclusion from civilization as if it were a plague, you recluse." _I can't say that I blame you, though._

His staff bonked her head. "No more pie for you!"

 _Baby Yunan, baby Yunan_ , tee-heed the Rukh.

Her half-smirk was a bit smug. "Not much of a 'threat' seeing as I'm leaving for the time being, Yuuunaaaaaaan."

An unimpressed face took the place of his prior childlike pouting. "Stop that. Now, come here." Reaching behind her back, his fingers faintly stroked her Metal Vessel; and he pulled back as soon as blue smoke emitted from it, soon materializing into the girl's floating uppity Djinn.

Once again, this being's David-resembling face disquieted Emilia; but Yunan rose his Dungeon, so was there even a point in being uneased?

"Mongrel, state your purpose for summoning me into this disgusting, complexion-ruining heat –" Mephisto's booming voice came to an unceremonious halt while his ice-blue eyes caught the Magi, his pompously irate expression turning into one of intrigue with a hint of pleasant surprise. "Ah," he began calmly; folding his arms across his broad chest. "It is now no wonder as to why the Rukh and presence surrounding my little King seemed so familiar. I daresay that Ugo is the one responsible for your continuous rebirths, young one?"

What humoured Emilia was her Djinn referring to Yunan as a ' _young_ one.' What further amused her was the fact that this Djinn was actually speaking in a tone of genuine respect and some friendliness. For once.

She could not fathom why Yunan's eyes looked to be somewhat pained. "Greetings, Mephistopheles of the Unnumbered Dungeon. It –" His grip on his staff tightened. "– has been many years."

Gazing up, the Otherworlder cocked her head to the side. "So, you two know each other well?"

Mephisto grinned wide and proud, and his insanely long, wild and wavy white-blue hair fumbled a bit in the very warm breeze. "I was the first Djinn he had summoned, brought forth for his very first chosen King's Candidate and –"

"I am a little pressed for time, so my materialization of you shall be a quick one." Much to the Djinn's annoyance at being spoken over, Yunan's interruption flew out uncharacteristically agitated. His sudden discomfort did concern Emilia for a moment, and she rose a brow with a small frown.

"Very well. He was a filthy cur, anyway." Raising his brows, the Djinn procured an emotionless smirk.

Yunan loosely crossed his arms. "I rose your Dungeon for Emilia because I know that the two of you should be able to work excellently together and to create a close bond with one another."

"HUH?" In perfect sync, Emilia and Mephisto glared at each other with aversion before then turning to Yunan and giving him strange looks.

Smiling, the Magi's eyes softened as soon as he met her gaze. "Please be a bit merciful." He rose his face to meet the Djinn's. "She is my little one, after all."

 _Do what he did and you will not be forgiven,_ warned the Djinn's Rukh. _Do what he did and you will not be forgiven._

Puzzled for a moment, she figured that they were most likely referring to Yunan's first King from hundreds of years prior. Once again, her Rukh were defensive: _She won't, she won't!_

With a neutral expression, the Djinn contemplated the man's words for a silent ten seconds. "Fine, I shall comply when necessary." His giant hand covered the girl's back. "Now send me away, Magi! This disgraceful heat is a great sin to my very being."

Instantly, a moody Mephisto disappeared. Vaguely amused, Emilia turned to Yunan. "Lërynia interrupted me from saying this back at your house, but thank you for these past few months," she graciously expressed with a small smile. "I truly appreciate your care and assistance with helping me to get accustomed to having being reborn in a world not my own." Although, she was still not fully used to it.

"'Twas a pleasure, little one," he responded cheerily. Given how used he was to Emilia constantly being around, he was going to miss her presence. "It was actually a ton of fun for me!" His eyes then widened in surprise when she stepped forward and hugged him with both of her arms around his waist and with the right side of her face pressed against his chest. "Emi–?"

"Jeez, stop looking so damn lonely every time that you express your own happiness," the Otherworlder mumbled forcefully wherein contrasted in a tone that was almost gentle. "What's wrong?"

His lips were parted yet no words were formed. And then an airy, weak and nervous chuckle flew out. "Am I that easy to read for you?"

"Not all of the time. Your general disposition may be one of cheeriness; but I've been noticing that for all of the moments where you feel true joy, there is this pensive sadness and longing from within your eyes. Please, tell me that I'm wrong if that is the case?"

The hand that held onto his magician's staff tensed, and his free hand rose to the crown of Emilia's head, to which he wove his slender fingers through her hair. "You are n-not wrong." Though barely noticeable, his voice faltered for a second.

 _Kindred spirits, kindred spirits,_ chirruped the Rukh.

"Not right now, but someday . . . Someday, I will tell you," the platinum blond man's gentle words were nearly inaudible.

"That's alright. I'll wait." She parted from him with an encouraging smile, and his hand detangled from her hair.

"Say . . . After you travel the world for a bit and further open up your horizons," Yunan began benignly with his fingers tapping against his staff. "How would you like to return south of the Great Rift? You can stay there longer if you wish for it, and we can take the time to explore that peculiar land together?"

Out of excitement, her cheeks flushed a light pink. "Thank you, Yunan, I'd love to."

Upon hearing her answer, he felt a little more happy than usual. Grinning mirthfully, he rose his staff. "Now, allow me to give you a head start."

Emilia waved her hands. "Oh, no, it's fine . . ." Eyes widening, she felt herself beginning to rise towards the bright sky. "I can just go to Carthago to get a ship!"

"Nonsense! You would be wasting time on that boat. Farewell for the time being, Emilia!"

"Yunan, don't you dare!"

But he did dare to swing his staff; and with his use of floating magic, a peppy Yunan had his apprehensive ward fly across the skies at such a speed, that everything that had passed below morphed into one giant blur.

 _Damn it, Yunan, my potential death is on you!_

Emilia grumbled to herself and her eyes were stinging from the rapid, chilly wind. The light golden brown blur of sandy land soon morphed into a deep blue – already, she was crossing over the ocean.

 _Oh, for all things good in the world, please don't have me fall into Al-Thamen-controlled territory . . ._ "Flying" over what now looked like land once again, she felt Yunan's magic starting to wane. _Oh my gods, right across the ocean, was it? Reim or Parthevia, Reim or Parthevia; which one will I tumble into? And they're both at war right now! At least Reim isn't draining its' citizens dry, though, and it is under the protection of Scheherazade . . . Fuck._

Mephisto's irked voice floated into her mind most unwelcomely: _Cease your dramatics, little girl, your complaining is giving me a headache!_

 _Then get out of my head for the next ten minutes!_

 _No! By hovering around your consciousness like this, I am able to see the world for myself and to properly gauge our surroundings._

The following minute felt like ten seconds as the speed of Yunan's magic considerably slowed down to a point wherein Emilia could discern her surroundings: A huge city with homes and buildings that were very Persian-like in architectural design. Abruptly, she came to a halt above a massive palace. Specifically, above an area that looked to be a lush, colourful and overall pretty, well-kept garden. That was when she fell . . .

"Look out!"

. . . And crashed right into one of Parthevia's highest ranking military leaders and head of the Dragul family (and secret conspirator with Al-Thamen given from what she had observed from the _Adventures of Sinbad_ anime), Barbarossa.

A short "Ah!" flew out of both of their mouths as they tumbled upon the paved area of the garden. The cushioned chair he had been sitting on was knocked towards the shiny green grass; and the table in which held a couple of fat scrolls and a cup of tea shifted a bit, yet it thankfully did not tip over.

"Lord Barbarossa?!" hollered a masculine voice from behind the girl.

 _YUNAN, WHAT THE FUCK?! I'M HAUNTING YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE IF I DIE!_ Embarrassed, she rose her face from his armour-clad abdomen. "I am so sorry about –"

"Get off of him, you vagrant!" The owner of the aforementioned voice roughly shoved her away before turning towards the taller man and offering his assistance. "Show some respect; do you know who this is? How dare you try and attack –"

"Memphis," Barbarossa's cool voice took over the other's verbal assault. He stood to his golden-armoured feet and adjusted the cloak that hung from his right shoulder and down his back. "I'm alright; no one is injured. Do smile, we have a guest." Masking his stoic face with a barely-noticeable smile, he brought his hand forth to Emilia.

The livid man – who looked to be around the other's age – reluctantly closed his mouth. He moved to the right side and lifted the fallen chair, settling it by the table before then standing at attention by the aristocrat's side. He looked like a man who had hailed from Heliohapt: Dark skin; straight, neatly-cut and hip-length hair that was of a snow-like white; eyes in which were a piercing, bright green; elegant black kohl decorating the edges of his eyelids, and crisp white robes and shendyt owning some form of semblance to Ancient Egyptian clothing. Withal, a wide gold belt was clasped around his waist; golden Parthevian-styled armour fitted along his forearms and legs from the knee downwards; and a simple gold choker donned his neck, and from it, trailed a thin gold chain that disappeared into his clothes.

Heart beating into her eardrums in irritancy and nervousness, Emilia, out of politeness, took Barbarossa's hand and allowed for him to help her back onto her feet. "Thank you," she said whilst glancing into his rather lovely amethyst purple eyes for a second. She readjusted her travel bag and briefly made sure that nothing had fallen out. "And I apologize for crashing into you so rudely like that."

"It's alright; no harm was done." Dark green was the colour of his short, neatly-trimmed hair, and his fringe almost shadowed his eyes. His rich garb was of royal blue, dark violet and white, and his gold armour with a high collar owned a slightly more intricate design compared to the other military personnel. From his right earlobe hung a golden chain with a diamond-shaped ruby fastened at the end. He looked to be any age from between nineteen to maybe twenty-three. "Are you a magician by any chance?"

Puzzled as to why he would ask her that, she then noticed how the parapets and wide-arched windows wherein surrounded these gardens were far from where they were standing and so floating above the Parthevian lord would have been the only way for her to have even dropped right on top of him in the manner that she did. She procured a humourless smirk. "No, I am not, but I did annoy a magician, so he flung me away from a different continent; not caring where I may end up falling into. Unfortunately, I've never before stepped foot inside of this specific continent."

Barbarossa closed his eyes, smirked in amusement, and strolled to his chair. Upon opening them, he sat down and crossed his right leg over his left. He had initially assumed that she was a traveller from his country's current enemy, Reim; however her words, strange clothing and the fact that she did not completely look Reiman proved said assumption otherwise. "Are you aware that you are in Parthevia?"

"I am."

"Do you know which city this is?"

"I don't." Emilia's answer was calm, though she did not appreciate the patronizing tone in which he seemed to be now speaking in.

"It is our capital city, Csitephon, and this building is the royal palace." His smirk dropped and his eyes hardened. "Loiter even ten feet away from the palace's outermost walls and I will have you in chains, foreigner. Memphis –" Lifting one of his scrolls, he proceeded to unravel it. "– escort her out."

A quiet Memphis no longer seemed angry, yet he held a calm and steady gaze. He now towered before her. "With me, girl." And he walked off with Emilia wasting no time in following him.

The occasional sentinel, maid, or palace official would give her curious and strange glances as she and the Heliohaptian silently meandered down staircases and through wide, open-arched hallways.

 _Away from danger; away from danger,_ chirped a couple of Rukh.

Pupils focused on the back of Memphis' silken white hair, Emilia bit her lip. _What an arse that Barbarossa turned out to be._

 _My power is at your disposal, mongrel,_ came Mephisto's unimpressed comment.

 _I've no intention of drawing attraction to myself, sensitive Djinn, especially for something as ludicrous as a petty threat –_

"Ow, watch yourself!" Emilia snapped when she followed Memphis 'round a corner; accidently bumping into a boy who was her height and who seemed to be a year older than her. _Oh, great: It's Drakon before he got himself humbled . . ._

Covered in bruises and white cloth bandages, a prickly expression donned his face. "I am the son of the late General Draguliel Hendrius Nodomis Pertegomidus, the Western Region Military Unit Commander Dragul Nol Henrius Govius Menudias Partenuvonomias Dumid Os Kartanon of Parthevia's most prominent and noble Dragul family and you will address me as such!" he puffed out passionately and rapidly.

With a blank expression, the Otherworlder suddenly felt sorry for the boy and she knew not why; but due to where exactly she was, she decided to rein in her sass. "My apologies, Lord Dragul; the fault is mine," she expressed in an uncharacteristically docile fashion. "Please excuse me." Lowering her gaze, she walked passed him and towards Barbarossa's man (who had been noiselessly observing the interaction with a vague hint of a smirk).

Excluding a helm and the fact that he wore a wide golden belt with a black spider owning long, scraggly legs emblazoned upon it, Drakon was dressed in the standard white clothes, golden armour, and maroon cloak of this empire's soldiers. Long lashes framed yellow-golden eyes and his dark green hair was short, albeit there were longer locks of it in which came from either side from behind his ears and down his chest. A diamond-shaped ruby attached to a gold chain hung from his left earlobe. "Hm. I didn't know that the palace – or rather, my brother – was entertaining foreigners." His tone was a little calmed down.

Flatly yet courteous, Memphis answered before she could open her mouth: "We are not, my lord; she was . . . Thrown in by mischance. Ask your lord brother if you wish to."

Incredulous, Drakon promptly turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

 _What a pompous mongrel child,_ floated Mephisto's utterance.

 _Oho, the irony of your very own words, my good Djinn._

Memphis led Emilia further down a couple more corridors; through the gargantuan doors of the palace's main entrance; across the front courtyard; down a wide and excruciatingly long flight of stone steps; until finally, they reached the opened gates of the outermost wall.

From a slight distance away, she could see the Parthevian people going about their differing businesses. They all wore very Persian-like clothing of white or off-white with specific patterning along their collars and some splashes of colour here and there. Many were light-skinned, yet the majority owned tans of different shades and there were also quite a few with darker tones. Most were black, brown or grey-eyed, though many owned irises of hazel, golden, or even amber. Black, brown, or dark brown seemed to be the dominant colours for hair, but she noticed that there were quite a few with dark purple or dark green hair.

"Watch yourself," Memphis' voice came from behind her. "This country is at war – as a foreign a traveller, you would be wise to leave as soon as you can." That is, _if_ she can. He momentarily eyed the unusual-looking sword across her back.

Emilia turned halfway. "Thank you for –" But she ceased talking, for Memphis was already on his way back up the golden brown stairs.

Lërynia poked her head through the travel bag's flap. "Ne, that was exciting. And terrifying; I thought you'd for sure get into trouble!"

…

In a modest yet decent room within an inn, a tired Emilia dropped her bag by the bed before then plopping on top of the dark blue sheets and leaning the left side of her head and torso against the mattress. She had spent nearly four hours traversing around Csitephon and, to her shock, she did not see even half of the capital. This city was indeed huge! Lërynia had been reclining along her shoulder; and throughout the girl's walking, she was constantly babbling about . . . Which made some of the Parthevians avoid Emilia as they assumed that she was talking to herself – "Evade the crazy foreigner," as it were.

"Ne, ne, ne, do you want to keep exploring?" the silver-eyed faerie fluttered around the room excitedly.

"No thanks."

"But, there's still a couple of hours before the late evening!"

"I'm staying in here for the rest of the day. I need some alone time." Emilia pulled out her Torran dagger and casually held it upon the pillow by her face as though keeping it there would give her some sort of familial comfort. "Why don't you look around yourself?"

Standing atop the window sill, Lërynia puffed out her cheeks. "But I'll be lonely!" she groused. "It's no fun doing it all by myself!"

"If you're willing to wait, I am planning on looking around some more tomorrow morning. If not, then feel free to fly out that window – don't get lost," Emilia finished with a smirk.

Now the faerie seemed fearful. "Not funny!" But she flew out through the window anyways; planning on staying within the area of this inn and returning within the hour.

Once again, Emilia rested her eyes upon the weapon Tio had crafted for her. _Hm. Parthevia . . . War . . . A foreign traveller who's a young girl . . . War. An increase in slave trading?_

A sense of panic began to grow within her. What if a couple of the Parthevian people who had glanced at her as she was exploring around were, indeed, human traffickers? What if they saw her enter this inn? What if the innkeeper was secretly into that despicable business as well? What if he took advantage of her and sold her off while she slept? How about –?

 _Calm down, child,_ came Mephisto's vaguely annoyed voice. _That shan't happen. I will hover around your consciousness while you sleep tonight, and I will wake you should anything arise. No filthy mongrel will touch you._

 _. . . Will you, now?_

 _Humph. Of course. Be grateful that I am willingly dedicating my precious time for your sake!_

Tempted to figuratively bite back at his manner of response, she ended up thanking him.

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The morning sun was bright and the breeze was lukewarm with a hint of chill under the shade.

With nothing but her Metal Vessel, dagger, and a few coins shoved into the pocket of her white breeches, Emilia lackadaisically walked along the capital city's main marketplace. As expected, some of the citizens gave her fleeting glances of curiousness or uncertainty.

"Ne, Emi?" Lërynia spoke. She sat upon the girl's shoulder. "Why can't we pay for a ship to take us out of the country?"

Eyes darting all over the place, Emilia whispered her response: "Every single boat has been handed over to the government for military use. Not even Parthevia's own citizens can use them until the war ends."

"Ne, is it possible that another city or village further away from the capital may have a little boat or two hiding around?"

"It is, but the chances are miniscule. I'm thinking of leaving the capital tomorrow to go look for one."

Emilia was about to cross the wide paved road, but she stopped in her tracks. Other citizens scrambled out of the way as a company of Parthevian soldiers marched in formation down the marketplace, three-by-three. _Hmm, are they heading out somewhere?_

Suddenly, she heard the Rukh chirp . . . Broken, low-pitched chirps devoid of life. She saw two black Rukh fluttering about ten inches away from her, then over the marching soldiers, and then towards a figure across the road; a woman dressed in rich purple-and-white robes with the entirety of her head and face covered, except for her eyes and she stared right at Emilia.

 _It's the court magician . . . Whose name I've completely forgotten, but she's with Al-Thamen!_ A chill creeped up the length of her spine. "Never mind. We're leaving now."

Lërynia was confused. "Why?" She received no answer.

Wasting no time, Emilia hurried down the streets and into the inn she was sojourning at. After strapping her travelling bag across her shoulders (the faerie hid inside of it), she left the room; jogged down a somewhat lengthy flight of stairs, and handed her room's key to the innkeeper's black-haired wife.

"But you've paid for until tomorrow morning!" she expressed with some concern.

Emilia offered her a smile. "It's alright, you can keep the extra money. Your service was good; I just forgot that I was supposed to meet with someone this morning."

Leaving the inn, the Otherworlder sighed. There was no sign of that magician – had that been a hallucination? Regardless, she no longer held any desire to stay within this city for even an hour longer.

Turning, Emilia sauntered down one of the major roads and towards the main gate wherein led out of Csitephon and into the Parthevian landscapes.

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D Just saying, Drakon's real name figuratively kills me. xD ***

*** After Note II – Unlike in canon, I'll be having Yunan show up a little more frequently throughout this story. I just love writing him and his interactions with Emilia, hehe. x3 ***

*** After Note III – I've always wanted to write a story where the OC has a faerie companion and now I've finally got the chance! \\(*0*)/ Although _Magi's_ mangaka didn't really go in depth into what exactly **all** of the races were in Alma Torran, that world was a pretty magical place, so I have no doubt that the Faerie Race was probably one of them. Also, you could probably blame my decision as being kind of influenced by my recent reread of _Berserk_ (Puck and Ivalera are just so cute; though, they are technically elves, but they do very much resemble faeries). xD ***

*** After Note IV – Muu Alexius became #SmuuthAlexius for a moment there – sorry, I couldn't resist making that. xD Anyways: Nowhere could I find his exact age when he had decided to travel to the Great Rift to see the Fanalis' homeland . . . But in his flashbacks, he looked between the ages of thirteen to fifteen; and because he is fourteen in this fanfic right now, I had decided to just tie in that bit for this chapter. ***

…

 **Guest:** Happy to hear that! Thank you very much, and I hope you have a great week~ :D

 **Guest:** Thank you, and have a great week~! =D

 **Lina:** Oh. OH! LOL, sorry about that, but thank you for clarifying. Have a great week~! :D

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	6. Of Riddles And Ice

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

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 **~ 005 – Of Riddles And Ice ~**

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"Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living."

~ Dr. Seuss

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She gazed upon a picturesque Csitephon from a far distance with the wind whipping around her and the rolling of the sea's waves sounding into her ears like some crude albeit calming music.

"Ne, will you tell me now?" a fluttering faerie with tousled light pink hair asked with a pout.

"There was danger." Turning on her heel, Emilia continued her stroll along the beach. "Too troublesome to deal with."

Abrupt, Lërynia procured an embarrassed laugh. "Of course, I should've known! That man did threaten you with imprisonment, after all."

 _That court magician's presence, actually, but you're not wrong about Barbarossa . . ._ The Otherworlder smirked. "Yeah, I left before the possibility of him changing his mind and just throwing me in for no legitimate reason. Ahhh, this is a wonderful breeze!" She sat down upon one of the large brown-grey rocks wherein littered the beach; removing her travelling bag and placing it by her feet.

The tiny humanoid had this funny look of incredulousness within her silvery eyes. "Ne, you're resting now? It's only mid-morning!"

"Oh, yes: Says the one who usually sits on my shoulder!" Rather than being annoyed, the girl laughed. "I walked a _lot_ yesterday; my muscles are aching."

"Fine, fine, I– oh, birds!" Distracted by her wondering pupils, Lërynia caught sight of a plethora of white-and-light grey seagulls flying and screeching around. "Ne, ne, let me play with you!" And she shot up into the bright skies.

Entertained for a second, Emilia absentmindedly had the fingers from her left hand gently trail along the grip of her curved long dagger from Tio, the pads of them ghosting over the engravings that were etched in Torran . . . And then a thought claimed her mind; and reaching up over her shoulder to her back, she pulled out her elven-looking sword and held it in front of her chest with the tip of the sharp, obsidian black blade pointed towards the ocean's horizon. "Hm. It just occurred to me that I've yet to use your power."

 _Finicky Djinn, finicky Djinn,_ chirped a few Rukh whilst the eight-pointed star proceeded to glow a pale golden colour.

 _Give it a try,_ Mephisto encouraged in a voice that seemed expressionless, yet also somewhat amused. _However, do not expect yourself to be able to perform the greater feats right away – such things are the fruits of much training. Listen to the Rukh._ He paused for but a moment. _Hm, I see that you have left the city._

 _You just noticed?_ She smirked inwardly.

 _Mongrel, I had stayed up all night hovering around your consciousness so as to observe your surroundings to make sure that no filthier mongrel barges into your room whilst you slept._

"Noooo, stop that!" cried Lërynia as one of the seagulls attempted to peck at her translucent white wings.

A small, grateful smile donned her lips. _I know. Thank you for doing that._

 _Humph, of course,_ came his arrogantly-toned answer.

 _I left earlier this morning because someone from Al-Thamen had their eyes on me while I was traversing the city._ Eyes fixated upon the horizon and at the point of her Metal Vessel, Emilia began to feel this peculiar, wintry chill surrounding her body.

 _No wonder I had sensed a cur more sordid than that pompous child and that man who had threatened you hovering around the palace yesterday._

She could not help but snigger at his words. The Rukh's chirruping were now more frantic. Suddenly – delicately yet firmly – pale blue ice covered the length of her blade and the girl let out a whistle. "Oh, wow, not bad."

But she spoke too soon: Erratic, the thin ice wherein had coated her blade uncontrollably trailed up her arm, towards her shoulder and across the right side of her neck and cheek. Surrounding the vicinity, the air became frosty; and huge fifteen-metred spikes of ice emerged from the ground in a split second, dangerously littering the area and two of them nearly impaled her. Simultaneously, two miles of the sea in which were in front of her froze over with a myriad of ice-spears shooting up from the water.

Amazed yet alarmed, Emilia did not know how to feel. The corners of her eyes and lips twitched as she stood still, akin to the rock she had been sitting on top of a few moments ago. "W-what . . . The actual fuck . . . Just happened?"

A bark of Mephisto's laughter resonated throughout her subconscious and his voice was sarcastic. _My sentiments exactly, little King! Control your Magoi, why don't you?_

"Ne, Emi, what did you do?!" A bewildered Lërynia descended and hovered by her head.

"I –"

Five frozen seagulls unceremoniously plopped upon the frosty sand and they shattered into pieces.

The sounds of ice breaking pierced Emilia's right ear when she turned her head to face the wide-eyed faerie; the bits of said ice detaching from her neck and jaw and tumbling towards the earth. "I feel a little tired." She took in a deep breath to calm herself. This was the very first time that she had used her Magoi.

"You accidently used a lot of Magoi!"

The girl was tense. "We need to run." Lowering herself awkwardly, she gripped the thick strap of her travel bag with her free hand and slung it across her torso.

"But there's no one here." The faerie's breaths morphed into wisps of mist.

"Oh, there will be some soldiers scrambling about in due time." Rigidly moving her cold, ice-covered right arm, some of the frozen shards proceeded to crack and fall off of the sleeve of her dark lavender tunic.

Lërynia cocked her head to the side. "But Csitephon is miles away."

 _Their damn court magician is from Al-Thamen – that is what unsettles me!_ Emilia's black boots slowly began to crunch through the frosted sand. "That doesn't matter. The city's still within sight; ergo, we are not far enough. Shit –" Irate, she brought her left hand up to her cheek and swiped some of the ice away. "– Lërynia, help me take this stupid ice off!"

…

Although it was almost late in the afternoon, the sun blazed ever so brightly, and the skies were very blue and cloudless. No longer on the beach, Emilia trudged along the hard, dark sandy earth upon high ground wherein overlooked the aforementioned beach. Akin to a sea of candles, the deep waters of the ocean sparkled radiantly as the sunrays reflected upon the surface.

 _I have neglected to ask,_ Mephisto barged into her mindscape for the umpteenth time. _I refer to you as my 'King Vessel'; yet seeing as you are female, would you prefer it if I used 'Queen?'_

 _No, not really. I'm completely alright with you using 'King.'_ Swallowing some water, the girl shoved her water skin into her bag. _Thank you for asking, even though it took you almost two days to do so unlike a good, proper-mannered Djinn._

 _Saucy child. Count yourself fortunate that you have been blessed by at least a modicum of my magnanimity!_

She rolled her eyes. _And so Your Royal Imperiousness expresses._

To her vague surprise, a little snicker was heard from her supercilious Djinn. _In regards to your previous answer, why 'King?' Do you resent being female?_

 _I would be lying if I said that I've never once wished that I was a male on occasion . . . But, no. I thoroughly enjoy being female. Funnily enough, I just prefer the word 'king' over 'queen.'_

"Ne, Emi! I found a city and there's lots of ships!" Lërynia hollered over a slight distance to the other's far left.

Expectant, she jogged towards a cliff that the faerie flittered above. "Ne, wait . . . Never mind," she heard the faerie mumble as soon as she stepped by her side.

Emilia's hopeful smile dropped. Of course, it was too good to be true: Many feet below was a city that was not nearly as large as Csitephon, yet it was pretty sizeable. It took her a couple of minutes to realize that the bit of land in which jutted out from the beach was actually an island with two massive bridges connecting said island to the mainland. The problem was that this island city was riddled with Parthevian soldiers and warships. "An army base. Well, we definitely can't go there."

And so the human and the faerie continued on their way until they found a half-hidden cave near the beach, to which they spent their night in.

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"Miss, I think we have a problem."

"Oh? And what might that be?" Emilia turned halfway to her right to find a skinny little boy with messy black hair and cream-coloured clothing that was somewhat tattered. Splayed out as far as the eye can see, the ocean by the wooden docks of this ship-less port town was tranquil.

The child was rather starry-eyed as he gazed up at her excitedly. "You're young, but your hair is whiter than my clothes! It can't be real . . ."

"And black hair can be?" She smirked lightheartedly whilst gesturing to his head. "Of course it's real. Here." Bowing from her torso, much of her silken tresses fell to the front of her body and hovered just before the boy. "Go ahead."

Absent hesitation, the inquisitive boy grabbed at her hair and scrutinized it as though it were some sort of alien sample. Allowing her eyes to freely wander, she noticed how the boy's other hand was held against his chest, his fingers tightly closing in around a toy wooden horse with red-brown paint that was chipped.

"And your eyes?" his voice returned her from her brief thoughts.

Emilia cocked her head to the side. "What about them?"

"Daddy said that if I stare into the sky or sea for one hour every day for exactly one year, my eyes will turn blue!" the child exclaimed innocently, and the girl could not help but titter for a second. "Did you do that?"

She procured a humoured half-smile; and standing straight, her hair fell from the boy's hand. "Sure. And if you stare at herbs or the sun all day, your eyes will turn green or gold," she jested.

"What, really?!" His dark, widened doe eyes sparkled with such anticipation.

She gaped. "Ah, no, I was only playing around! That sort of thing doesn't happen."

"Wah, no way!" Suddenly, the youngster had this comically crestfallen look about him. "Daddy lied!"

"I'm sure that he was only teasing you." She casually crossed her arms and smirked. "So, what is your plan of action now that he's been found out?"

Slowly shaking his head, the boy's upset pout did not alleviate. "Daddy's gone. He's a soldier now; he left two days ago on a boat." Turning, he gazed out yonder the horizon of the vast, calm waters.

"Ah . . ." Emilia's lips stabilized at neither smile nor frown, and her eyes softened as she looked upon the child. Sadly, his words did not surprise her: This town was the second Parthevian settlement in which she had stumbled upon this morning; and once again, she had inwardly noted that there were very few men running around. Almost every single male was either younger than thirteen, or older than fifty-five – a stark contrast to the capital city where there were still many young and middle-aged aged men who had not yet been drafted into the army or navy. In fact, the overall welfare of Csitephon's common folk seemed considerably better than the wellbeing of the people from the smaller cities, towns and villages.

Not only that, but the Otherworlder perceived that the further south she would travel, the less amount of soldiers she would see. This did make sense considering that Parthevia's capital, as well as the Empire of Reim, were further up north . . . However, what if some Reimans decide to utilize a bit of creativity and sneakily make their way down here by ship to lay waste to the poorly-protected farmlands and settlements?

"But . . . He'll come back," the child declared in a firm murmur. "He has to." He turned to the older girl and she noticed how his eyes were developing this tear-like sheen. "Daddy will come back, r-right?" He now seemed confused with his thoughts and, with his free hand, he grasped at the white fabric of her breeches that covered her left thigh.

Reticent, an inaudible sigh released from Emilia's mouth; and biting the inside of her cheek, she spared a quick gander at the seas before casting her eyes downwards. "It . . . It won't do for your wellbeing if your mind constantly lingers on a wish that may never come true," she spoke softly, then mentally cursing herself for the look of absolute despair that had cloaked the boy's features.

"I-I don't get it! Miss –"

"Hey, baby, no; I meant –" She plopped to her knees with her eyes widening in a panic, and she took the boy's upper arms in a gentle grip. Her voice was laced with concern. "What I mean is that nothing is certain, you know?"

Silence ladened the boy, and his head tilted downwards.

"You need to focus on yourself and the loved ones in your life in these trying times – what about your mother?"

"Dead."

"Oh . . . My condolences." Her grip slackened and her hands rested atop her thighs. "What of –?"

"But my aunt and uncle and grandpa took me in."

Emilia tilted her head to the side. They took the boy's father, yet not his uncle? Or did his uncle already serve and the government had sent him back due to some serious injury? Forcing a smile on her face, she decided to take a figurative page from Yunan's book: "Trust in the guidance of the Rukh. They will be with your father and with you and . . ." Her voice suddenly trailed into silence and she knew not why.

She honestly did not expect the boy to gaze upon her again with eyes that no longer seemed as saddened as before. "Ohhhh, I know the Rukh; there's this old lady I know – a fortune-teller – and she's always talking about the Rukh. Nice grandma with fun stories, but kind of creepy."

The girl nearly laughed, and she was about to respond when the boy's eyes widened. He gasped and immediately scuttled away; and as he disappeared between simple homes, she saw shadows and heard heavy metal footsteps coming to a halt. She stood and turned and rose a brow whilst trying not to be alarmed. "Is there –?"

"Where you attempting to entice our children, foreigner?" asked a sentry with his eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

"No, sir." Emilia's palms felt more sweaty than usual. "He only came to me out of curiosity, and he was devastated about his father leaving."

The soldier who asked the question shared a glance with a slightly older one with a thick, dark brown beard. The former continued: "Leave this town; we do not need outsiders painting glorious pictures of adventure to those vulnerable."

 _But I wasn't doing that!_ She exhaled quietly and lowered her gaze in a faux docile manner. "Alright. I'll leave right now."

Tootling away from the soldiers and the near-empty harbour with a rapidly-beating heart, she began to munch on a long carrot that she grabbed from a bit of cloth from within her bag; and she took to an empty alleyway's shade from between two somewhat large, golden brown mudbrick buildings. When she reached the other side of the passage, she ceased in her tracks and leant her right side against the wall; her scrutinizing pupils casually dancing from unsuspecting Parthevians to busy Parthevians.

She could discern some kaleidoscopes of Rukh in the distance – both white and black, and she could almost feel the suffering and absence of hope from the latter. Her heart was pounding and her palms felt sweaty.

It was when she swallowed the last of her vegetable that a little, girlish voice was heard: "Ne, Emi? I couldn't find anything useful to our escape."

"Nothing on my end, either." The aforementioned girl turned her face to the side and instantly cringed, for the cheeks, nose, lips and chin of her faerie friend were slathered in grape juice from the half-eaten, fat dark purple grape that she held in both of her hands. "Okay, that is disgusting."

Lërynia puffed out her cheeks. "Ne, but it's so good!"

Rather than wasting mental effort in judging the tiny being's lack of table manners, Emilia just rolled her eyes halfway with a subtle half-smirk. She pulled out a cream-coloured handkerchief from one of the smaller outer pockets of her travel bag and dabbed at Lërynia's face.

The Otherworlder's mind fell back to that boy while she meandered her way through the vicinity and its' people. With the humanoid sitting by the side of the crook of her neck (hiding amidst her long tresses), it did not take long for her to find the southern exit of the settlement. Passing by a pair of sturdy yet somewhat worn mudbrick walls, her feet crunched upon the wide dirt road wherein led away from the port town.

She was fanning herself with her left hand when a couple of Rukh proceeded to twitter: _The boy looks; the boy looks . . ._

On cue, Emilia pivoted around to see that the little boy with the thick black hair was, indeed, poking his head out from behind one of the walls with curious eyes. He rose an uncertain hand of farewell before his eyes then sparkled with renewed lightheartedness as soon as the girl waved back at him with a smile.

…

A surprisingly dainty and melodic _shiiiing_ sounded as the Otherworlder pulled out her Metal Vessel. "Let's try this again."

"Ne, are you sure you want to do this now?" came Lërynia's uncertain voice. She sat cross-legged atop the youth's head; fiddling around with her hair.

 _Careful, careful,_ some Rukh chirped.

Emilia was silent for a couple of moments. The distant beach from Csitephon was not the only bit of land in which had succumbed to her Metal Vessel's wrath; nay, last night's resting place in that half-hidden cave was demolished when she had decided practice with her Magoi for a second time. Withal, a bit of the road from between the settlement she had passed through earlier this morning and the town she had just exited forty minutes ago was also left with some uncontrollable ice spikes that poked out all over the place. It was then that Mephisto uttered something about her having "surprisingly destructive Magoi"; yet despite his words, he did not sound all that concerned . . .

She noticed how the hot, sun-filled land wherein now surrounded the wide road was littered with patches of grass and other greenery; and far to her left, was what looked to be a distant farming community. "Ah," the girl began a little sheepishly, "Another time, then." Reaching behind her, she sheathed her blade.

"Ne, do you like riddles?" the faerie queried randomly.

She rose a brow with a subtle half-smirk. "They can be quite entertaining at times, so yes. And yourself?"

"I absolutely love them!" Lërynia exclaimed mirthfully whilst bouncing in her seat upon the other's head. "Let me go first: Alive absent breath and as cold as death; never thirsty and ever drinking, all in mail that is never clinking – what am I?"

"A ghost?" Pondering, Emilia tilted her head to side. "No, ghosts can't eat or drink . . . Hmm. It's not a fish, is it?"

The faerie's wings flapped in excitement. "It is a fish!"

"My turn! It's a bit of a long one, though." It took Emilia two minutes to gather her thoughts pertaining to this specific riddle. "All things are devoured by this thing: Birds, beasts, trees and flowers; it gnaws iron and bites steel, and grinds hard stones to meal; it slays kings, ruins cities, and crumbles high mountains down. What is –?"

"Time!"

"Wait, what?" Startled, the girl's eyes widened. "You did not think about that one at all."

"I'll admit, that was a good one. However –" Lërynia leaped to the air and fluttered by the girl's face with a smug expression. "– I already knew of one with very similar wording!"

Tempted to pout and glare, Emilia ended up procuring a challenging smirk. "By all means, oh, great Master of Riddles, do share your next one," she innocently teased.

"You can carry it everywhere you go and it never gets heavy. What is it?"

"My sanity?"

She tittered. "Ne, even then, it can weigh someone down."

For the nth time, Emilia fanned herself with her hand, and she could have sworn that she had just heard the neighing of a couple of horses in the distance behind her. "That is true . . . It 'never gets heavy' no matter what? Literally and figuratively? An identity, then . . . My name!"

Lërynia flew around her head. "Damn it, I must think of a harder one!"

Humoured as this was the first time that she had heard the good-natured humanoid swear, Emilia suddenly donned a comically complacent smile. "A box without hinges, a key or a lid, yet golden treasure is found within. What is it?"

"What is this?!" Eyes bulging, the faerie ran both of her hands through her wavy, shoulder-length hair as she settled down upon the older girl's shoulder in a brief frenzy. "Ummmm, a daisy? Or some other flower that hasn't blossomed yet? Because there's golden pollen inside?"

Emilia was a little impressed. "Now I must confess, that's a pretty good assumption."

The other pouted in very vague frustration and she began to mumble. "A lemon? No, that doesn't sound right . . ."

 _An entourage nears; an entourage nears,_ the Rukh warned. Emilia barely procured a nod of her head – that was right, the subdued whickering of those distant horses, over time, morphed into the land being crushed by the hooves of many equine creatures; the clinking of metal, and the chatter of men.

Using Emilia's hair as a makeshift curtain, Lërynia poked a part of her face through it to take a gander behind her. "Ne, how dare you interrupt our riddle 'battle,' stupid humans!" she groused before then fluttering down and hiding herself inside of the other's travel bag.

Though amused by the faerie's disappointment, the now-silent Otherworlder kept her composure while she pulled out her long Torran dagger – with the blade still sheathed within the scabbard – and shoved it through her boot on the inner side of her left calf. She continued to sashay down the dirt road under the irksome heat, all the while, her new company's raucousness was getting louder . . . Until, suddenly after ten minutes, barely any movement resonated.

The sound of a door being thrown open was heard and jogging feet came instantly after, then stopping a few feet away from her. "Excuse me, young miss!" a feminine voice called.

Honestly a little annoyed, she masked a calm expression when she ceased walking and turned around. Polished golden armour dazzled in the sun from a company of perchance twenty or thirty Parthevian soldiers on horseback; and in front of them were another two who sat at the helm of a carriage, reining six horses with such ridiculously glossy coats. The carriage looked a bit more like a wheelhouse, for it was wide and long; and it was rather ornate with pale, creamy pink, rich amethyst purple and vibrant gold – clearly, someone of import rode within. Additionally, there were another two soldiers upon horseback flanking at either side of the wheelhouse, and they each wielded a long, pole-like spear containing this empire's flag: Emblazoned upon a field of sandy golden brown was an inverted triangle with a dark blue border and a pale beige background; and inside of the shape danced a bearded warrior with white swords gripped in each of his hands, as well as two pairs of grand, emerald green wings wherein had sprouted from his back.

Upon turning her head, the Otherworlder mentally noted how the face of the pretty and cute newcomer suspiciously turned into one of half-surprise, and the latter's bright hazel eyes displayed recognition. She owned short black hair that was somewhat choppy, and some of the longer locks of it came down from either side of her face and to the tips of her shoulders. Her short fringe was parted in the middle.

"Is there something that you need from me, miss?" the former queried flatly yet politely, and the Rukh twittered tranquilly.

The older girl looked like she was at least sixteen years old. Flat black shoes fitted her feet, and a pair of large white sirwal trousers that gathered around her ankles donned her lower body. Her shoulders and upper arms were exposed since she wore a high-collared, skin-tight black tunic absent any sleeves, and a wide belt of gold armour was encircled around her torso from her hips to just below her small breasts. Bands of gold were cuffed around the middle of both of her upper arms, and from them flared extremely long, billowing white sleeves. "First Imperial Princess Serendine Dikumenowlz Du Parthevia wishes to speak with you, and she hopes that you join her on her brief journey southwards," she announced in a formal yet welcoming tone.

Emilia was bewildered as to why that was the case, but she nodded her head and followed the smiling handmaiden towards the large carriage. Recalling her memories, she could barely remember much about the aforementioned princess – she was very briefly mentioned in the final arc of the main series' manga (the information given in said arc being rather questionable), and she had been slightly more of a minor side character in the _Adventures of Sinbad_ anime. Emilia owned no opinion of her as of yet; then again, she did not even hold any solid opinions of some of the more major characters, strangely enough.

When they reached the right side of the wheelhouse, the foreigner noticed how one of the carriage drivers stepped down and took a few steps towards her . . . Wow, armour really did look stunning under the bright sunlight; although, she did pity the soldiers for having to wear such things in the heat. Oh, well, at least they sat astride horses.

"Your luggage and weapon, if you please," the young man said as he extended his hands. "Your safety and comfort are guaranteed should you cooperate."

 _What an interesting choice of wording_. Holding a perfectly straight posture, a wry smirk played about Emilia's lips. "Alright, sir. This is all that I have," she uttered. After handing him her travel bag (he thankfully did not bother to inspect inside of it), she unclasped her sword belt and reluctantly handed him her Metal Vessel; purposefully forgetting to also give him her Torran dagger that she had previously hid within her boot.

As soon as he turned to the carriage towards what seemed to be a space for storing luggage, the handmaiden caught her attention when she opened said structure's well-polished door. "Do come inside!" she invited with bright eyes. "Surely you don't want to stand in this sun all day, do you?"

Upon pivoting to her right, Emilia took one more fleeting gander towards a few of the horses with a saddened half-smile. _Tio never did get the chance to teach me horseback riding . . . Or archery, for that matter._ Her fingers flexed in vague discomfort.

"You were right, Your Highness!" the handmaiden called out as the two of them stepped inside of the large carriage (with Emilia inwardly revelling at finally being under the shade) to where two lovely older girls, who were a little on the voluptuous side of the spectrum, sat. "This _is_ that girl!" A few seconds after she shut the door, the carriage proceeded to move again.

White gossamer curtains wherein had covered the various windows of the wheelhouse rippled as the tepid breeze wafted in. To Emilia's right was a long wall of curtains of cream and deep, wine red – both trimmed in fine gold – that were also made of gossamer; clearly, a more private room lay beyond. Slightly to the left and a few feet away from her front were colourful, luxurious rugs and exquisitely-sewn silken pillows strewn about on the floor in an organized fashion. Her eyes fell on the sixteen-year-old princess instantly – not only because she knew what the noble had looked like due to watching the anime, but having the royal family own a different type of complexion compared to the people that they ruled over did seem like somewhat of a common element that fantasy writers would include in their works, now that Emilia pondered over it.

Turning her face from the window to her front, the bright pink-eyed princess procured a pleased smile, and an air of confidence surrounded her. "Oh, I'm very glad to see that," she had expressed upon the handmaiden's announcement. She sat atop a cushioned, settee-like ledge that was jutted from the walls of the carriage, and a second handmaiden (who very much suspiciously looked like Drakon's future wife) was relaxed upon the rugs to her right.

The first handmaiden sat on top of the rugs to the royal's left whilst Emilia summoned her "formal mode" and made a neat bow from her waist. "For what reason does this simple traveller owe the pleasure of meeting the Princess of the Parthevia Empire?" she articulated. _Good lord, did I even say that right?_

"There's no need to be overly formal." The aforementioned royal made a casual wave of her hand, and her golden vambraces gleamed a bit. Her straight, buttocks-length hair was quite pretty and shiny; it was decorated with a few braids and golden rings, and portions of it were looped around either side of her face and ears in ovular rings. Unlike Lërynia's lighter pink tresses, the youth's hair was a little more like a bright pink in which reminded Emilia of decretive cake icing. Her straight, neatly-trimmed bangs were parted on the left, and behind them was what seemed to be a dark purple headband. "Sit; I didn't expect for us to cross paths again so soon after witnessing you fall onto my betrothed."

Mouth ajar, Emilia's initial puzzlement morphed into embarrassment as she shot up with a blush. "Oh my, oh, jeez, you saw that?! I'm sorry; I did apologize profusely and sincerely to him, but I swear it was an accident."

Serendine chuckled. "I know!"

The second handmaiden with almond eyes and who seemed like she was probably seventeen or eighteen years old, spoke up in a very soothing, feminine voice. "Please, there's no need to feel as such – you merely provided my Princess with some much-needed levity that day."

 _Let me bury my face into those pillows. Rest in peace, oh, pride and dignity of mine!_ The Otherworlder barely groaned while she sunk to her knees and shins. "Well, that's reassuring," she murmured with a chagrined pout.

The wheelhouse jerked as its' sturdy wheels trudged over some rocks. Looking entertained, the princess continued: "My attendant who brought you in is Tamira; she's very proficient in martial arts."

Emilia could tell. Although Tamira was _very_ slender of body, her exposed upper arms and shoulders revealed some nicely-toned muscles; and not only that, but the way that the older girl carried herself was of that of a skilled fighter.

"And my other attendant is Sahel – she is a white magician."

 _Wait, Drakon's future wife is a magician? Wow, the more you know . . ._ Yes, the more Emilia scrutinized said young woman, the more she realized that she was, indeed, the woman that Drakon will eventually marry. Her visage was the same, albeit younger, and the hair was identical: A thick and wavy dark brown wherein came down to her hips, and the upper layers of it were tied into a small, neat bun at the top of head, wrapped in gold. Her garb was near-identical to Tamira's, only that Sahel's upper chest and back were also exposed since she wore a low-cut golden breastplate that came down to her hips, absent any sleeves or straps; and what donned her legs were long, billowing white skirts instead of trousers. The Otherworlder could not see a staff, so she discerned that the magician's wand was hidden inside one of those large white sleeves.

Subtly, Sahel cocked her head to the side. "Is something the matter?" she queried gently.

Emilia smiled politely. "Ah, no, you just look like a cousin of mine from back home." A simple lie. "A white magician . . . That means your specialty is light magic?" There were a plethora of these categories and she honestly had not bothered to remember them all. The only ones that she did recall were red for heat magic, blue for water magic, and purple for life magic.

"Wind magic," Sahel corrected with a small smile. "Those who specialize in light magic are orange magicians."

"Speaking of magicians," Serendine began out of innocent curiosity, "are you one? Is that why you fell onto Barbarossa in the way that you did – because you were practicing your floating magic but it went out of control?"

Emilia almost wanted to laugh, and her fingers absentmindedly traced over the patterns etched into one of the rugs. "No, but I did annoy a magician and he flung me across the sea from a different continent." That had the royal smirking in amusement. And then realizing that she was the only one who had yet to share her name, the snowy white-haired girl immediately did as such out of courteousness. As with Muu Alexius, she was almost hesitant with giving out her full, real name, but after thinking on it, she realized that there was really no need to be so secretive about it. As long as she kept her "Otherworld" status unvoiced, she would be alright. Probably.

"'Emilia?' Sounds Reiman." Though the princess' comment was made with an amiable smirk, her eyes narrowed only a bit as if attempting to read the foreigner.

 _Potential trouble, potential trouble,_ chirruped a couple of Rukh. _Careful, careful . . ._

"Does it, now?" Emilia could not help but titter, and she could not deny that her utterance did gift her with a mere tinge of nervousness. She composed herself. "My mother and her family hold ancestry there, but they were born elsewhere. I've also never been to Reim; never stepped foot in this continent before, actually."

"However, you've a surname? Which foreign noble family are you from?" Serendine postulated once again. It made sense considering the manner of the younger girl's disposition and speech, as well as how finely-tailored and well-made her clothes were. Then again, there were some nations that did have the commoners own surnames rather than only having the nobility own them, as Parthevia did.

"I'm not of the aristocracy." She noted Tamira giving her a strange look. "Where I'm from, everyone owns a surname, and owning multiple middle names is also common. My parents are very successful surgeons and they're adept at handling their finances, so that really built up their wealth." To be specific, her mother was a cardiovascular surgeon and her father was a neurosurgeon.

An oddly satisfied-looking Tamira instantly spoke up. "Oh, that does make sense. I nearly didn't believe you at first because your sword looked ridiculously well-crafted and, ergo, would have been expensive."

"But does a family of surgeons – even with excellent management of money – have the means to commission something like that?" Serendine assertively inquired with a brow raised.

 _In the modern world, yes._ Emilia smiled; and though it looked like a proud one to a stranger, it was really an empty and joyless one. "It's actually a relic from an ancient world that was somehow managed to be kept in such good condition despite being hidden within an old necropolis for so long. My home city held an exclusive competition for its ownership."

"And was the competition deadly? It must have been, considering the prize."

"Very. Everyone died, except for me."

Impressed was what the young royal had felt, for it greatly reminded her of her past and of how she had to constantly prove herself (and still has to, to a certain degree, despite being the firstborn of the emperor) that she was capable of being a great warrior and military commander, despite having been born female. "What kind of competition was it, exactly? How much did you sacrifice?"

 _An irreplaceable friend and teacher; some of my sanity; a good portion of my morality . . ._ Though her eyes felt nothing, Emilia's throat constricted. Opening her mouth to give the princess some brisk lie, she was suddenly interrupted by a vaguely anxious-looking Sahel, who held her hands tightly together.

"Y-your Highness! Please, I mean this with the best of intentions, but you mustn't get ahead of yourself. Please, she is quite young and I am sure that someone such as her would rather forget the horrors that she might have endured."

Sparing the young woman a considerate glance, Serendine returned her pink gaze towards Emilia, and her response was a little cavalier: "My excitement took over me so much that I'd neglected to consider, what Sahel had just mentioned, the things you most likely would have experienced. Do excuse me."

This odd sense of instant calm eerily took Emilia over. She made a mental note to thank Sahel later, and she moved her legs into a cross-legged position. "Oh, no, it's alright. The memories still overwhelm me, so . . ."

"Were you travelling with your family?"

The Otherworlder inwardly sighed in relief at the change of topic. "I was visiting a friend, a magician, and I was going to be staying there for a bit. He's like my secondary caregiver. I like to tease him a lot, but he got so irritated of me this time that he flung me away," Emilia's unperturbed half-lie came out as smoothly as melted butter. It disgusted her with how much of a liar she became ever since she started to communicate with people other than Yunan after waking up in this world, even if it was for a good reason and even though most of said lies did hold a bit of truth within them.

The Parthevian trio all looked a little entertained by her words, but then Sahel pursed her lips in concern and even the pink-haired teenager rose a brow in thought. "And you've unfortunately landed in here," the latter mused. "You have been exploring my country for a little bit, have you not? So you realize that, as of right now, there are no options of leaving Parthevia?" She huffed. "Huh, what an irresponsible magician!"

That had Emilia smirking in humour whilst her thoughts trailed to Yunan. Shifting slightly in her seat, Tamira turned towards the princess. "Princess, if you recall, there is to be an exchange of prisoners with Reim in roughly a week's time."

"Hm, yes, that is true. Very well, then: After we conclude our business with Contastia Harbour, we'll bring you back to the capital and include you for the prisoner exchange. From there, you can return home."

Whether the princess sincerely meant her words or such pretty words flowered from an enticing guise meant to imprison the younger girl under suspicion of potentially being a Reiman spy, Emilia shall never know until the time comes. However, as deferential as she could, she expressed her gratitude and graciously accepted the royal's offer.

The wheelhouse and soldiers stayed their course whilst Serendine brought forth her concerns regarding some "ice magician that seemed to be out of control" given from the little trail that they came upon previously. Emilia stayed quiet throughout most of the conversation, especially when the princess decided to get a little pompous with her attitude and choices of words.

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D Sinnie is finally introduced in the next chapter, so yay. \\(*0*)/ The original plan was to include him for this chapter, but like the previous one, this chapter got a little too long. Sorry, but I'm not the type of person to sacrifice details/characterizations/character development in favour of rushing through the plot(s) and canon stuff, and I like to take this time in order to further improve my skills on detailing and the handling of characters. ***

*** After Note II – Lërynia's first riddle and both of Emilia's riddles are from J.R.R. Tolkien's _The Hobbit_. The former's second riddle is from  www . riddles  difficult-riddles – though not all of them are as difficult as the title of the url suggests, they're all pretty good and fun to read and solve. x3 ***

*** After Note III – About Serendine's assumption of my OC's name: 'Emilia' does indeed hold origin from Rome. Originally 'Aemilia,' which is the feminine form of the old Roman name 'Aemilius.' =3 ***

*** After Note IV – Lately, I've been further planning out my version of Yunan's mostly-mysterious backstory as it relates to this fanfiction; and I've jotted down so much that I am highly considering writing a side story written in Yunan's perspective that is based on his past lives, placing a higher focus on his very first life of centuries' past. The reason why I'm "highly considering" this instead of "100% for sure" posting it is because I might end up just incorporating everything into this story. I don't know; I have to see where it goes in the future because, yes, the major elements of his past will be spaced out throughout this story, but how in-depth will I go? It might seem a little out of place because this is kind of basically Emilia's story (and I hope to delve as deep as I can into Sinbad's character and psyche) . . . Then again, I do have Yunan as a major character in here, so I guess it won't seem too out of place? I don't know. The backstory that I've come up with is enough to warrant a separate story . . . *ponders for a bit* Okay if, by at least near the end of this fanfic, I don't go too in-depth into Nan's first life, then I'll post a separate companion fic. Sorry if this note seemed to be a bit on the rambling side of things; I just wanted to get some of my thoughts pertaining to Yunan in my story out of the way. xD ***

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 **Guest:** Yeah, I can understand your initial apprehension regarding reading stories with the adult-ends-up-in-their-teen/kid-body idea, but I am glad to hear that you've been enjoying this so far! Thank you very much, and I hope you have a great week~ :D

 **Guest:** Maybe you can, or maybe you're just bluffing and you can't – as long as one has the proper spelling, sentence/paragraph structure, grammar and punctuation, a "better story" is rather subjective. So, go write what you think is one, but you don't seem to possess the right mindset as writing fanfiction is a fun hobby, not a competition. In addition, if you think that this story is awful and you are one of those types of people who just can't help but blatantly voice it out no matter what rather than quietly leaving and avoiding pointless drama like a proper-mannered human, at least have the decency and maturity to **actually explain why you think my story is shit. Unless you can back it up with hard evidence and authentic critique, it is merely an opinion and subjective opinions are not critiques nor criticisms.** :3

 **Guest:** Updated. ;) Thanks, and I hope you have a good week~! =D

 **Guest:** *hands update before you* Thank you and have a good week~! :D

 **Random Guest:** High-five, fellow _Berserk_ fan! \\(*0*)/ And yeppers, I haven't read a _Magi_ fic either where the possibility of faeries existing was explored (then again, I haven't read many so I can't say for sure, LOL) . . . Thanks very much and have a great week~! =D

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	7. The Random Surprise That Was Sinbad

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

*** Note III – I kept forgetting to mention this in previous notes, but I just remembered, so here it goes: Regarding Emilia being able to see, understand and talk to the Rukh – as well as her being able to mentally communicate with her Djinn – despite not being a Magi . . . There's already a realistic reason that I've developed for it (well, as "realistic" as it can be considering this world's fantasy elements). I just haven't really mentioned anything in the narrative about it because it's honestly not that relevant until much later in the story. And it kinda involves Yunan, soooo . . . *smiles innocently* =3 ***

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 **~ 006 – The Random Surprise That Was Sinnie, Er, Sinbad ~**

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"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells."

~ Dr. Seuss

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" _I am sorry, little one, but it seems as though the scar upon your throat shall forever remain."_

" _Not even_ _ **your**_ _magic can . . . I'm shocked, Yunan. How can this be?"_

" _I don't know. It might perchance be because this is a wound that was inflicted unto you within a completely different world."_

" _And thus a constant reminder of how I even ended up in this mess. Huh, how utterly stupid!"_

The very tips of her index and middle fingers ghosted over the simple golden choker wherein covered the ugly knife wound across her neck as the brief conversation with the Magi had floated into her subconscious absent any warning.

The melodies of the waves sang into Emilia's ears and the cool breeze caressed her body most welcomely. She sat along the rocky hills overlooking the dark waters; the soles of her boots digging into the sand of the beach, and the salty air wafting into her nostrils. The sun had sunk below the horizon sometime prior, and littering the sky were countless white stars emitting silvery glows atop the sea – a view that the girl could wholeheartedly appreciate, for she had not remembered a time on Earth where she was able to see such insanely clear night skies with that many stars first-handed.

Although Serendine had been most courteous, Emilia desired to spend some time away from what gradually felt like a 'pack of wolves'; and after stopping to rest for the night, she sneaked off to this location with her things in tow. She had her travel bag upon the sands in between her feet for Lërynia to get some fresh air, and her Metal Vessel was, once again, buckled to her back because she did not feel comfortable being without it for too long.

Turning her head, she took another gander towards distant firelight, where Serendine and her entourage had set up camp. She had not expected the royal to decide this as she was sure that Serendine would have taken Sahel's suggestion of travelling to the nearest settlement for a much more refined place of repose; however said settlement was further inland and, according to the princess, that would have added another half-day for their travels to Contastia Harbour.

She returned her gaze towards the sea, and Lërynia emerged from the distant darkness. "You know, for all of your excitement of wanting to cross the Great Rift, you're surprisingly shy with being present around others."

The faerie puffed out her cheeks in anxiousness. "Ne, but there's sooooo many humans; it's overwhelming!" she groused in sync with flailing her arms, and the girl noticed a leaf in one of her tiny hands. Where she had plucked that, Emilia had no idea.

"What's that for?" Leaving her travel bag on the ground, a smirking Emilia stood and proceeded to lackadaisically walk within the area before then stopping right by the shallow waters. The liquid occasionally lapped at the toes of her boots.

"Ne, my headache," Lërynia responded. "I'm going to get rid of it." Holding the leaf against her forehead, a golden glow proceeded to surround the bit of plant; and while some golden sparkling dust began to fall, the green leaf blackened and shrivelled and flittered to the ground. "All better!"

Emilia was amazed. "Well, that's neat. So, you faeries specialize in nature-related magic and healing?" Nearly forgetting about the Torran dagger hiding in her boot, she bent down and retrieved it, then shoving it through her belt by her left side.

"Yes!" came the other's mirthful response. "But since I'm only twelve, there's still a lot for me to learn. Aaaaand, we can communicate with animals."

"Oh? Can you control them, as well?"

"No . . ." A saddened pout marred Lërynia's face. She fluttered closer and sat by the crook of the girl's neck. "Controlling them is a bit of a 'rarity,' only one in maybe every twenty – or thirty? – of us can do it. It's not fair; I want to do it, too!"

Emilia tried her hand at consoling her. "You know, there's –"

"Do you enjoy talking to yourself?" came an entertained voice.

A sharp intake of breath had the girl coughing for a few seconds; and as soon as Lërynia shoved her own tiny body inside of the girl's tunic, Emilia turned half-way to see a confident-looking Serendine, whose hands rested at her hips. "Sometimes, the best company is oneself," Emilia responded airily with a humoured half-smile and a shrug.

The princess was amused. "I concur. Oh, is that your prize?" She gestured to the other's sword.

Lërynia's cold hands against the bare skin of the girl's upper back was a little distracting. "Yes; I don't feel comfortable with it being in another's hands, where it can be stolen." She cared not that her words might have insinuated that the royal was untrustworthy; and she spared a vague gander towards the other's thin, dark brown leather sword belt where a slender and curved sabre with a finely-polished golden hilt was sheathed into a smooth navy blue scabbard.

"Understandable." Sparing a brief glance behind Emilia, the royal's eyebrows rose and her lips stabilized at neither smile nor frown. "You've taken your bag with you . . ."

Knowing what she was hinting at, the Otherworlder nonchalantly crossed her arms over her abdomen. "Well, my sketchbook and lead are in there. I wanted to draw for a bit until the sun went down."

"I see." Serendine's eyes seemed to be scrutinizing her, probably for some slip-up of speech. Did the princess already have an inkling towards her, that not all of her words that were expressed within the wheelhouse were completely true? That she was hiding something?

Taking a few steps forward with her pupils focusing towards the sea, Serendine stopped by the shallow waters, a few feet away from Emilia's side. Armoured, golden high-heeled boots covered her legs up to just near her mid-thighs. Encircling her torso was somewhat of a low-cut golden breastplate that only came down to her waist, and a large black spider with long and scraggly legs was embossed across the front. Underneath that was a finely-tailored and formfitting white tunic with a high collar wherein came down to her upper hips – it was buttoned at the top yet left open below the breastplate – and it owned short, puffed sleeves that were cuffed around the middle of her upper arms; and, beneath that, there was a second formfitting white tunic that trailed down to her upper thighs. This one was buttoned all of the way down and was utterly sheer, and clasped against her collarbones in gold was a long and violet cloak. Withal, her bottom was donned in nothing but an armoured, golden thong. Thong?

 _Wait, what? How is that even comfortable? HOW?_

Feeling a sudden perplexity for some reason, Emilia strangely rose a brow, but then her face relaxed. A thought claimed her mind: Should she attempt to deter the princess from arriving at Contastia Harbour? Not that it would truly matter, anyways, because Sinbad will manage to escape perfectly alright. She caught sight of Sahel and Tamira from a distance, who looked to be keeping watch over the royal.

"Your Highness," the Otherworlder began amicably when she turned to face the older girl. "I hear that you plan to kill this 'Sinbad' boy as an example for stealing the Dungeon's power and treasures."

Alarmed for but a moment, Serendine sharply turned to face the other. "And where have you heard that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I overheard your soldiers – they weren't exactly whispering it, you know."

"Of course." Although the princess' body relaxed, she let out an exasperated sigh. "You'll stay in the carriage once we reach Contastia; I will not have outsiders involved."

"Fair enough, Princess," said Emilia in a collected tone, and her ice-blue eyes glinted with a hint of slyness. "Only, killing the Dungeon Conqueror will immediately have the Djinn and its' power return to its' belonged Dungeon, and who knows if Baal's tower will reappear? What if another Dungeon doesn't rise within these lands until a year or five years from now?"

"Oh, is that so?" Frowning and very displeased, the royal's pupils studied her visage. "You seem to know what you're talking about."

"All tales from my magician friend, I assure you. He's very old and has been in a few of these things long ago."

The noble's tone proceeded to morph into an annoyingly supercilious one. "Humph. Then I will reclaim the item holding the Dungeon's power; drag the peasant back to Csitephon, and have him chained within our dungeons."

"Not possible." Brows rising, Emilia's lips nearly twitched upwards in distaste. "Only those who've conquered a Dungeon are able to wield its' power."

"Then he must be forced by any means necessary!" With an arrogant huff, Serendine planted her hands upon her hips. "This power belongs to the Parthevia Empire, not in the hands of some lowborn defector! It has to be used for us to gain advantage over Reim; for us to become the greatest empire known to human history, and all citizens are obligated to sacrifice themselves and offer up all of their resources for their country's war effort. And speaking of that, I do hope that I find that ice magician – they have a duty to utilize their abilities for our military –"

"Pathetic."

With disappointed eyes and a ghost of an incredulous frown, Emilia held a rather serene face. She was not fully aware that she had uttered that word until an affronted Serendine suddenly glared upon her in absolute lividness, but the princess' prior cutting words had Emilia's mind trail back to that devastated little boy from that port town and she could not handle them any longer.

"What did you refer to me as?" the royal seethed; her scowl intensifying.

Nearly snorting out a quick laugh, Emilia forced an apologetic half-smile. "Oh, I'm sorry!" She took a couple of steps back and waved her hands in mock-surrender. "I really do appreciate your offer of helping me to get back home, but I think I'll find my own way out –"

"You will do no such thing! And you greatly step out of line by calling me that – I should have you in chains!"

"Not you, Princess, your attitude. Very unaware of the realities of your common folk, especially those beyond the capital . . . Ah, well, 'ignorance is bliss' as the saying goes, I guess? I'd imagine that it would probably feel nice to be able to have the luxury to only really care about your own little bubble and the few within it."

"You speak out of turn, foreigner." To say that Serendine was offended would have been an understatement. She flushed scarlet in sensitive anger because she could not believe that she was being rebuked in such a way. "The people are the Empire's greatest resources; ergo, they must be utilized to their utmost capabilities, especially in times of war."

The Otherworlder smirked in aversion, and she took another two steps back. "They're the ones who make a country a country and by draining them dry, you are destroying your own nation from within. The people are to be valued and respected; they are not tools to utilize by one's whim and then be tossed aside once 'defective.' How you don't seem to be fully aware of this is shocking – war is expensive in all aspects, you know! You can't just do what you want."

"What utter nonsense! The people are meant to devote themselves completely to their Emperor. It is simply the way." The royal's body vaguely shook in incense, and the stark look of chagrin shrouded her countenance.

"It goes both ways, kiddo: The people to their leader, and their leader to them. Honestly, I would not be surprised if a good portion of them somehow find a way to leave Parthevia."

"Then they are traitors to the Empire!"

Emilia had the audacity to procure a cavalier shrug. "Can't be much of a betrayal if said _glorious_ Empire betrays the people and their trust, first," she said airily and tiredly as she turned and began to walk towards where her travel bag was laid.

"Oh . . . I see it, now." Although Serendine's voice eerily became calm, it was filled with contempt and bile. Biting her lip, the younger girl suddenly ceased her movements, for the near-delicate song of metal was heard.

 _The blade is poisoned,_ the Rukh warned. _The blade is poisoned . . ._

"Your words just now merely confirmed my recent suspicions of you."

Gazing up at the stars for but a moment, Emilia cursed beneath her breath. "I doubt you have to go that far." Turning again, her eyes darted from the silvery sheen of the royal's sabre and towards the handmaidens from the distance.

"I must; I have now deemed you a threat. I shall put you under arrest for being a spy from Reim; one who plans on taking advantage of the people by planting lies within their heads, inciting rebellion against the Empire and– no. No!" Serendine's bitter smirk morphed into a gasp of outrage. "How– no, why do you look at me like that? How dare hold those eyes of pity towards me!"

It was as if the Otherworlder was gazing upon a sad little kitten; weak and injured and alone, and the princess _despised_ that look.

Anxious, irritated, yet also strangely tranquil all of a sudden, Emilia ran a hand through her hair whilst releasing a brief, light titter. "Oh, I am sorry, Princess, but it's because I do! I can't help it, I really do feel sorry for you."

In hindsight, she realized that her tone probably sounded like a mocking one, but she had honestly not intended for it to be this way. Emilia nearly cursed her inability to maintain a closed mouth, but she knew that after uttering "Pathetic," there would be no return. Just . . . What exactly made the princess like this? What was the manner of her past education? Was she really that ignorant, or was she dealing with certain things in secret? Was she somehow being prevented from learning or accomplishing certain things, which probably would have added to her inability to acknowledge the true damage that was being done to the common people? Did she merely prefer the battlefield and enjoyed "playing war?" Was she really that insanely steadfast and loyal towards the Parthevia Empire and its' way of accomplishing tasks? Was her extreme love for her father, the country's emperor, blinding her that much?

Upon all of the things considered good in this world, Emilia, whose lips now relaxed into a gentle frown, truly pitied the youth. She tried shoving her judgemental thoughts towards the back of her mind. Sighing inaudibly, she shook her head thrice. "I'm sorry. I won't say anymore; please disregard my prior words." _There's just no point._

Serendine's half-smile was smug and her eyes shined with derision. "It is pleasing to see you acknowledge that I am the one who's in the right, as expected. I do not need a pacifist preaching to me about trivial matters."

"You mistake my words, _as expected_." Emilia smiled in a half-impish, half-unimpressed fashion. "I'm definitely no pacifist . . . But I am not a warmonger, or a jingoist, either."

Smile drooping into a loathing scowl, the royal's grip around her sword tightened. "Do not take another step back – I'm imprisoning you, don't you recall?"

"That I do." Emilia rose her hands with her palms facing forward. "But I'm not a Reiman spy set out to do all of those things that you've gone on about, so how about I just quietly leave and find my own way out of this country?"

"No. I don't believe you." Serendine gestured with her sword towards the side and in the direction of the camp. "You will be coming with me right now."

Eyeing the poisoned sabre, the girl had her palms lightly rest against the crown of her head. "You're not calling for your attendants to aid you?" She took one step back. _I'd rather not, but . . ._

The royal took one step forward; her boot splashing into the shallow bit of the beach. "I don't see how I would be unable to take you. I have had only the best training, after all."

 _Blah, blah, blah; yeah, well I had a Tio!_

Emilia managed to unsheathe her elven blade just in time to block a complacent Serendine's quick thrust, the latter then recoiling immediately whilst bringing her arm up again. The girl parried it with ease. Resembling exquisite diamonds in the moonlight, grains of sand flew upwards when Emilia rose her right leg to deliver a swift kick into the other's lower exposed abdomen, yet the swifter royal twirled around her; water splashing here and there as she brought forth her sabre for the umpteenth time. Pivoting in a panic, the obsidian black blade prevented the steely sword's course; but Serendine had caught Emilia in an awkward position and, expertly, the former made a strong flick of her forearm and wrist, which forced the latter's Metal Vessel to be thrown away behind her.

 _I'm sorry, Tio._ A deadpanned yet wide-eyed and embarrassed Emilia could have sworn that, for the briefest of seconds, she had just heard the Torran warrior's deep and judgemental voice teasing her with his usual, "Silly girl's."

Relaxing in her stance, a very satisfied "Huh" emitted from the back of Serendine's throat. As soon as she opened her mouth, however, she noticed something rapidly zap out from the back of the younger girl's dark lavender tunic; and then a blur of pink and black with a high-pitched voice dashed into her face and around her head, and Serendine wildly twisted her head and body around whilst wondering why that blur somehow looked like an insanely tiny human. Footsteps neared her . . .

Absent any warning, a subtle Emilia unexpectedly stomping onto her violet cloak and briefly pinning her to the beach had Serendine violently jerk to the side. Due to that and the fact that her armoured boots also owned rather high heels, she nearly tripped, but then she gasped as soon as she felt a knee suddenly dig into her stomach, just underneath her breastplate. Being so rudely thrown into the sands, she managed to hear Emilia's chastising words of, "Next time don't wear a stupidly long cloak during a fight!"

"You will be thoroughly punished for treating an Imperial Princess like this, you filthy spy!" the infuriated princess roared in sync with rising to her knees; realizing that the foreigner was running away and that her sabre had already been kicked off thirty feet from her. Growling, she stood and scurried towards it.

Regaining her bearings and poise, her peripheral caught movement to her near-distant left. "No Sahel, Tamira! I don't need assistance in subjugating this little girl!"

Even though said 'little girl' was two inches taller than her.

Serendine charged, and what she found very bewildering was the sudden gush of unnaturally freezing wind. She noticed that the foreigner's weapon had already been retrieved and that her travel bag was slung across her torso; and, strangely enough, she stood by the shallow ends of the waters with the point of her sword dipping into the liquid. An odd, little human with wings was also perched upon the younger's head.

At fifteen feet away, Serendine vaguely heard Emilia uttering a peculiar, foreign-sounding name. Or was it a word? With a sudden bit of fear, the princess came to an instant halt, for emerging from the vast seas was a forming wall of deep yet bright blue ice; beautiful yet terrifying; thick and at least thirty feet high, and it slithered across the beach and into the Parthevian landscapes, severing her and her entire guard from the foreigner's side of the land.

Enraged, Serendine's teeth clenched. "No, no, no; what is this?! ARE YOU THE ICE MAGICIAN, THEN?!" Sparing a quick glance to her right into the deep seas, she then turned around again to her left so as to scrutinize just how far this ice wall was extended.

"I don't see an end to it, Your Highness!" Tamira observed when she finally arrived by her lady's side. "It must have gone on for several miles –"

The ice suddenly procured a rather menacing groan and, promptly, spears of ice shot out uncontrollably from underneath the wall; from beneath the sands, and Serendine knew that Sahel had caught up to them from behind due to a pale golden borg abruptly surrounding them – though, it turned out that the borg was not necessary because none of the spikes had specifically aimed towards the trio. She could hear her soldiers clamouring about.

With the most hate-filled glower she could muster, Serendine faced the ice wall. This was, indeed, most humiliating.

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"Oh, thank you . . . Tio . . . For . . . Drilling me . . . With . . . All of that . . . Damn . . . Endurance training!" a sweaty Emilia huffed and puffed and collapsed onto her front upon some grassy lands by the beach, somewhat close by to a vast bed of reeds and some tall, sandy hills in the distance.

 _How inelegant, merely throwing yourself down akin to a mongrel toddler,_ judged an unimpressed yet smirking Mephisto.

"Oh, shut up!" she groused. "I'm doing all of the work, here!" She winced. "Oh, my head . . ."

"Ne, Emi, what's wrong?" Lërynia fluttered from out of the girl's travel bag with concern swirling within her silvery eyes.

"I've this really bad headache – that may just be a migraine beginning to form – and my head feels really foggy."

"'Foggy?' What do you mean?"

"Hard to explain, but, you know when you don't sleep at all and it feels like your mind is out of focus and is unable to think properly, and it kind of messes around with your vision? Foggy?"

"Oh! I'll be right back, then!" The determined faerie instantly made a beeline towards the bed of green reeds.

Rising for the quickest of desperate moments, Emilia removed her travel bag and sword belt for comfort and rolled back down to, this time, her back; inwardly revelling at finally being able to settle down after what felt like forever. Since raising that enormous ice wall (by accident, mind you), she had spent the _entire_ night alternating between running, jogging and walking so as to get as far away as she could from Serendine and her entourage. Just how long did said wall stretch out to? It seemed quite lengthy, but she doubted that it had gone on for as far as towards other side of the country . . . A mere few miles, perhaps. She reckoned that it probably would have stalled the Parthevian princess for half of a day, or even a full day.

The skies were a watercolour palate of pure orange-gold, blinding golden yellow, and this bruising purplish blue colour. Feeling like something in her brain snapped, Emilia groaned rather pathetically. "Mmmm, I want my bed. I want a nice, long bath; some chocolate and a bottle of rosé and vodka; to travel in a car or plane, and to have much easier access to food and drink! I want to return to my job as an accountant in my fabulously air-conditioned office, and I just need a damn modern toilet with some fucking toilet paper! Enough of this shitting in the open or in those ancient equivalent of 'toilets,' and then using leaves. Bullshite!"

Amidst her dramatics upon the ground, she felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes, yet she blinked them away and shut her eyelids. _Get me Yamraiha's genius self in the future to modernize this bathrooming crap!_

Having been hovering around her mindscape for the entire time, Mephisto was temporarily rendered speechless. Though he would have normally chastised someone for behaving in such a crass manner (and he was very curious in regards to what these "cars," "vodkas" and other stuff were), he could not bring himself to do as such for he greatly understood the feeling of homesickness, especially when said homesickness derived from being forced or ripped away rather than leaving by choice.

 _All will be well, little King. You will acclimate to it as the months turn into years and so forth,_ he murmured calmly before having his consciousness retrieve from her mind and into the Metal Vessel.

"Ne, Emi, I'm baaaack!" a jubilant Lërynia exclaimed when she returned with an armful of reeds.

Maintaining closed eyes, the aforementioned youth procured a miniscule smile whilst she began to drift into a slumber. In no time, she felt the faerie place a myriad of reeds all over her forehead and head; a vague glow soon emitting and this cozy, warm tranquil sensation caressed her mind. Although still feeling exhausted, her head ceased its' pounding and she fell asleep after managing a soft, little "Thank you."

Lërynia did not know what to do except to wait for Emilia to wake up, and so after tossing the blackened and shrivelled reeds away, she merely contented herself with sitting by the right side of the girl's face, her back leaning against the other's cheek. She fiddled around with a couple of the unused reeds, as well as the other's hair.

An hour zoomed by, and the skies were now developing a more pronounced light blue colour. It was a spur-of-the-moment type of thing wherein brought Lërynia beyond the Great Rift and into this part of the world – she did not entirely know why, but she had always owned this deep-seated wanderlust within her and her curiosity had definitely consumed her being. Her family (and the majority of the faeries) were adamant in their pursuits to dissuade her from acting upon her desires to leave their land of everlasting peace, yet there were a handful of her brethren who encouraged her; in fact, they had also been looking forward to having their own adventures around the other side of world. As expected, however, the only problem was that traversing across the Great Rift's barrier was practically impossible for almost every single individual to do . . . Unless they borrowed the assistance from one of few who had the ability do so as such. Yunan was able to do it, and Lërynia saw her chance when he appeared within her home with Emilia by his side.

Another hour passed. Perchance two; the faerie had not cared to keep track, but it did feel like a bit of a while. Suddenly hearing a couple of children in the distance, she stood up on alert with her brows lowering in confusion. Was there a village nearby? Using Emilia's slumbering body as a hiding place, the faerie peered over and noticed two children frivolously playing with sticks at the top of one of those hills; at least, they had been until they stared over at Emilia's body, to which they then shrieked and instantly scuttled away – most likely to alert someone of more mature mind.

"Emi, Emi, Emi, Emi, Emi; wake up!" the humanoid hollered and pinched Emilia's cheeks to no avail. Grabbing one of the unused reeds, she rose her arm and tickled beneath the girl's chin, but no results were produced once again.

"Mmmm, blueberry cheesecake . . ." Emilia moaned in her sleep, to which the faerie rolled her eyes in half-panic, half-exasperation.

And then a figure with a curious, pondering expression upon his visage emerged from the top of the hill, a boy with tan skin, somewhat thick eyebrows and who looked to be fourteen years old. Akin to a kitten, Lërynia pressed herself tightly against the crook of Emilia's neck whilst she scrutinized the boy, who was sauntering down the hill and towards them: Dressed in white with a teensy bit of blue below his collarbones, a long white sash was wrapped snugly around his waist, knotted at the front. Large yet slender gold hoop earrings were pierced through his earlobes. Simple flat black shoes with a bit of a point and upwards curl fitted his feet, and what donned his legs were a pair of purple sirwal half-trousers in which gathered to just below his knees. A thin, brown leather sword belt was wrapped around his upper hips, and by his left side hung a scimitar with a dark azure blue grip and cross-guard – owning strips of gold embedded into and around them – and it was sheathed into a smooth and black scabbard that had also owned some embedded golden strips along both ends of it.

Subtle confusion touched the boy's features when the mark upon his sword proceeded to glow for five seconds, but he paid no real attention to it and just merely brushed it off as he continued to approach the girl's sleeping body.

Lërynia tilted her head to the side. That symbol that had just glowed was identical to Emilia's . . . Was this boy that same Dungeon Conqueror who was praised by the townspeople from the past few settlements she and Emilia had travelled through?

"Yunan? No . . ." Now standing by Emilia's form, the startled youth scratched at his head. "No, Yunan's not a girl."

The faerie pouted at the mention of Yunan. _He knows that meanie?_

His slightly long fringe was vaguely parted on his left. The shorter layers of his straight and shiny hair fell around his head with the faintly longer strands touching along his neck, and the lengthier portions were tied in slim white cloth by the nape of his neck; his ponytail trailing all of the down to roughly the backs of his knees, maybe even an inch or two past them. "A traveller, then!" the boy's voice sounded again, and Lërynia noticed that his eyes seemed to have lit up considerably at the "traveller" word. Lowering to his knees by the girl's head, he brought a hand up to grab her shoulder to hopefully shake her awake, but what he had not realized was that Lërynia was hiding right by there –

"Ow! What?!" He recoiled his hand and gently rubbed at the backs of it, for the faerie had grabbed a spare reed and used it as a whip against his hand.

"No touching!" she commanded with as much ferocity as she could, and she fluttered up into the air. It did not work, however, she was too tiny and cute.

The boy gaped; he was too amazed for the moment. "What are you? I've never seen anything like you before!"

"Ne, I'm a faerie!" the humanoid exclaimed with a proud, puffed up chest. "I wouldn't be surprised, we are a secretive group, after all."

"Fascinating," he breathed out in awe whilst he stared at her translucent, white butterfly-like wings; eager to eventually know more. He glanced down at Emilia's face. "But, you know, it's not good to be sleeping out here like this." Raising his hand, he was then forced to abruptly pull back due to the faerie whipping at his hand again with that reed. She had thankfully missed this time – that first assault had really stung.

"I said, 'No touching!'" Her cheeks were puffed out in stubbornness.

"Alright, alright; I humbly surrender," the boy conceded with an entertained half-smirk.

A soft moan was then heard emitting from the back of the foreigner's throat, and Emilia stretched out her arms behind her head. A "blob" of dark purple hair consumed her blurred vision when she had first opened her eyelids. The second time they opened, they were more focused, and her pupils met these deep, rich and warm swirling pools of gold and amber.

 _Well, if it isn't the future Philanderer of the Seven Seas . . . Hold on._

Blinking twice in incredulousness, her eyelids were opened so wide that the lukewarm breeze was already stinging her eyes.

The Parthevian chuckled and smiled. "Don't be shocked; I am not here to do anything to you. But really, you shouldn't be lying down in the open like this."

Emilia maintained her strange stare. _Oh my god, it's this kid._

"You know, considering that this country is being torn by war –" He took her left hand in both of his, oh, so tenderly. "– I never would have expected to cross paths with a lovely foreign girl, here."

 _Oho, I know what you're trying to do there, Mister Flirt._

"I'm Sinbad. May I have your name?"

Her faced relaxed and Lërynia's voice barged in: "Ne, so, you _are_ that 'Sinbad' person everyone's talking about!"

He was a bit smug for a moment at that sudden mention. "The one and only. And you are?"

"Lërynia!" the magical being introduced with a tone so mirthful, that her previous protective irate attitude was nothing more than a distant memory.

Slowly pulling her hand out from his, Emilia rose into a sitting position. "Where did you come from? Is there a village nearby?" she queried whilst promptly buckling her sword belt across her torso; and, for a second, her pupils were drawn to the top of the older boy's head, where a lengthy cowlick bounced around nearly every time that he moved his head. She wondered how it was even possible for that random bit of hair to just stick up for some mysterious, gravity-defying reason unknown to all living creatures.

Sinbad held a welcoming smile, and he jabbed a thumb behind him. "Just down those hills lie Tison Village."

"Is there an inn there?"

"My village does not have one, being a bit of a small one. For that, you'll have to travel to Contastia Harbour – it's not too far away; by the time you reach it, you will still have many hours to the day before nightfall."

 _Good. I really need sleep. And a proper meal._ She procured a smile. "Thank you for letting us know," she said amiably.

"It is not a problem." Ladies in distress simply did not do for Sinbad. Although ridiculously curious about this new foreigner and her faerie companion, the boy ultimately decided to rein in his questions since the girl looked absolutely tired. She even had dark circles beneath her eyes, and both of her sclera were red. _Another time, then._ He wasted no time in standing right back up. "Come, I'll show you to the road."

The Otherworlder followed suit; lifting her travel bag and slinging it across her shoulders. Gathering spare reeds, Lërynia shoved the greenery into the bag. "Just in case we need it." She then fluttered towards Sinbad, seeming a bit ashamed. "Ne . . . I'm sorry about whipping your hands like that."

Humour swirled within his eyes, and he flashed her a charming grin. "I'm not bothered by it. It is only natural to protect a friend, after all."

…

The early morning sun blazed ever so brightly. Having left Tison Village thirty minutes prior, Emilia was sauntering along the wide and lengthy dirt road that was apparently supposed to lead her right into Contastia Harbour. An impish Sinbad was suspiciously with her, as well – he mentioned something about having to "do this thing" at Contastia, but the girl was unable to discern whether that was actually true or not. Still, Lërynia was most definitely not opposed to the company. The normally shy-around-others faerie was perched upon her shoulder; facing behind Emilia, and her tiny feet were lightly kicking against the girl's shoulder while she chatted animatedly to Sinbad, who leisurely walked a few feet behind Emilia.

The Otherworlder did not know what they were talking about; she heard the sounds of their voices, yet she could barely make out most of their conversation due to being consumed with her own thoughts, as well as being quite sleepy and rather out of her proper focus. _Hmmm . . . A lone traveller with a dark sword along their back and a faerie companion; hehehe, I could pretend to be Guts from_ Berserk! _No, wait, Ciri from_ The Witcher _is much more fitting: We've got the somewhat slender swords across our backs; I'm already dressed in very similar fashion to her, and we both have some albinism._ She inwardly cackled. _Yes, I could definitely cosplay as Ciri!_

Mephisto's obnoxious yawn barged into her subconscious absent any warning and that had Emilia roll her eyes in annoyance. _What are you blabbering about, mongrel?_ he demanded imperiously.

 _Fictional characters from stories from back home. Hmm, now that you're back in my head again, there's something I want to ask you._

 _You may freely ask what you wish to know._

His response relieved her. _Good. I just recalled that, in your Dungeon, you mentioned that your main elements were ice and fire. But how come I've only been able to utilize the ice?_

 _That fact merely demonstrates that you and your Magoi have an affinity for ice magic, and so it will take a little longer for your Magoi to obtain a familiar seeding with fire. Additionally, my very first mongrel King's affinity was with fire, and so he underwent much training in order to learn how to utilize the ice._

 _I see . . . "Affinity for ice magic," is it? So, if I ended up coming to this world as a magician, then does that mean that I most likely would have become a blue magician?_

 _With an ice specialty, yes._

Puzzlement touched Emilia and she pouted. _But how can it be that it'll take me longer in order to unlock even a tiny bit of your fire capabilities? It isn't like this with anyone else!_

 _That is simply because I am a very powerful Djinn, being an old magician and swordsman from Alma Torran_ , Mephisto answered so very nonchalantly yet matter-of-factly, which made Emilia smirk. _If you had captured Cerberus, for example; a Djinn with ice, fire and lightening capabilities, you shan't have much of a problem being able to control all three of the elements within a shorter period of time. She is a strong one, yes, but Cerberus is not me. Completely mastering my capabilities will take years, lest you die early._

She found this information to be most helpful; and before she could respond, her haughty Djinn continued: _Although I informed you that my first mongrel King had undergone much practice for the ice magic, I should inform you that he was able to control the fire with greater ease than you. I daresay that this is because you are from a different world; ergo, it does indeed make sense as to why your Magoi is surprisingly destructive._

 _And is also why the ice goes weird and all haywire every time that I use it, at least, for now. Hm. Intriguing . . ._

 _Indeed._ Pausing, Mephisto procured a thoughtful hum. _I sense Baal._

 _That's because Baal is right behind me._

 _I dearly wish to greet him, yet you had mentioned that a part of this country's government is in league with Al-Thamen – it will be wise for no one here to know of your status as a Dungeon Conqueror. You were only lucky that the pompous mongrel princess deemed you a simple magician after your entertaining stunt._

Emilia held in a giggle. _Thank you for acknowledging the situation. Haha, I never would have thought that you were this understanding!_

 _Child, my wondrous magnanimity only extends so far. Do not test it,_ came his arrogant voice.

 _Yes, O Djinn of All_ , she mentally uttered with an impish flippancy.

 _I want to see Baal's King._ Emilia felt Mephisto's consciousness push further into the forefront of hers. And then he laughed boisterously. _Oh, the child resembles Focalor when he was much younger!_

Such a comment amused her at the thought of the Womanizer Djinn being in the hands of the Womanizer King. _And he'll look even more like Focalor once he becomes an adult._

 _Ha! I look forward to seeing that– oh. Oh, no. By David's flaccid cock; what is this?!_

Coughing out a brief laugh, she awkwardly rose her brows; unsure of what to think. _Wait, what?_

 _Apologizes for my inelegance – I do like to make fun of him from time to time, especially when unsettled. But, little King, why must you do this to me?_

This would have to be the first time wherein Emilia felt legitimate consternation and fear oozing off from her overly confident and poised Djinn. _I'm sorry; I don't follow?_

 _This cur is a damn Singularity. How reassuring,_ Mephisto harshly spat with a sardonic undertone.

 _Well, yes, he is –_

 _Do you not understand, child?! David was the only living being that I know of who was able to discern the future; lo and behold, hundreds of years later, I meet you: Someone who knows the future. Subsequently, David was the only First-Class Singularity wherein I am aware of, yet there is_ _ **another one**_ _right behind you. What comes next, do I dare wonder? Can Baal's King also read Destiny's paths?_

 _For the most part, yes; but not to the point David reached of actually seeing snippets of the future._

Mephisto growled. _What is this blatant fuckery? These tasteless jests go too far! How dare I be played in such a way?! Yunan must answer for this!_

Emilia scowled. _Well how do you think I feel, you insufferable ass?! Being saddled with a Djinn who looks like David himself and who isn't one of the original Seventy-Two – I should be the one feeling afraid, here!_

Silence blanketed her extremely agitated Djinn, and she could feel his anger waning only a little. _Humph. Fare thee well, little King._ And his presence left her mindscape.

"Good riddance," she muttered in irritancy.

"– cutie!"

Ceasing in her tracks, Emilia brought up a hand to fan herself from the heat, and she turned to her right where Sinbad stood thirty feet away from her. Lërynia was perched upon the dark hair of his head. "What?"

Sinbad smiled mischievously. "Little cutie, just where are you going?!" he called out. "'No, thank you; I can just follow this road since you said that it'll take me right to Contastia,' was what you told me back in Tison, didn't you?"

Scrutinizing her surroundings, she realized that she had drifted from the road and was in some random patch of grass. Jogging over to him, she blushed sheepishly and attempted to save face: "No matter! I would have realized it soon enough, anyways."

"Sure you would." Eyeing her teasingly, he turned and continued walking once Emilia reached his side.

"And don't call me 'little cutie'; I'm one inch taller than you."

Daring to gaze at her in the most innocent and boyish of ways, he procured a casual shrug. "Yes, but you look younger. Are you twelve?"

" _Thirteen_ ," she pressed. Holding an unimpressed face, her eyes twitched, and then she felt a gentle tug against the side of her head.

"Oh, wow," Sinbad murmured curiously as he took a lock of her hair within his left hand and brought it up to his inspecting face. "And here I'd thought that this magician who was with me a few days ago owned the lightest hair I've ever seen. No, yours is a pure white and you're only a year younger than I!"

"Stop that." Emilia shook her head and pulled that tendril of hair away from him; albeit, she had to admit that he did kind of look adorable when he was in his curious mode. She smirked. "What? You haven't met someone with a bit of albinism before?"

He blinked. "No, what is that?"

…

Like Tison Village yet unlike the previous settlements before it, the large and bustling Contastia Harbour was filled with people who smiled more and who did not seem as burdened. Not to mention that there was not a single soldier in sight and . . . Wait, were those ships in the far distance by the port? Questioning Sinbad about this, the boy revealed that he had offered up all of the treasures from his Dungeon escapade for the people of his village and this neighboring harbour city so as to help them properly work with the proper tools in order to build up their way of living and hopefully survive the war and its' effects.

Absentmindedly, a soft smile made its' way across the girl's lips. "That is very compassionate of you."

Cinnamon, coriander, grounded dried rose petals, saffron and a plethora of other wonderful spices wafted into their nostrils when they meandered between a few people and passed by a spice shop. Sinbad mirrored her smile, yet his eyes displayed deep thought. "It is not right for the people to suffer due to the government's greed . . . I wanted to help them as much as I could. Ah, here we are! This isn't one of those expensive inns, so you don't have to worry too much about money for this one, but it is a great place."

They stood before a two-story, golden brown mudbrick building that had some dark red-and-blue paint, which was chipped and worn from the passing of years. Emilia covered her mouth when she yawned. "Thank you for your assistance; it was much appreciated."

He playfully winked. "Anything for a lady in need."

A couple of pretty young women – who were probably around eighteen or nineteen years old – casually passed by with woven baskets filled with vegetables and fruits, and Emilia could not help but roll her eyes and smirk in amusement when Sinbad's pupils trailed after them with a near-cocky half-smile gracing his mouth. "By the way," she spoke up, "the government's coming after you."

The boy chuckled joylessly. "Yes, they desire what was 'stolen' from them. I've been meaning to leave the country for the time being, but I haven't yet because I wanted to help my fellow citizens with rebuilding these lands –"

"No, I mean an important member of royalty and their entourage of soldiers are literally coming for you."

Lips stabilizing at neither smile nor frown, Sinbad's eyelids widened in slight trepidation. "You have seen them? How long before they arrive?"

She pondered for a moment. _Depends on how far that ice wall went on for . . ._ "Tomorrow, maybe even the next day? Though, I think that it's better for you to leave as soon as possible."

He cocked his head to the side in suspicion. "You've seen them yet you're on foot, and you say that they will not be arriving today?"

Procuring a confident half-smile, Emilia loosely crossed her arms. "They ran into some renegade ice magician!"

Golden amber eyes acknowledged her words with amusement. "Well, that will give me enough time to pack. Thank you for your warning, _little cutie_ ," he drawled out those final two words in a smooth singsong before turning and proceeding to saunter away with a vague little bounce in his steps.

"That's 'Emilia' to you!" Huffing with a pout and glare, the girl wasted no time in rushing into the simplistic inn. Upon entering, she realized that this was not just an inn, but one of those more casual places where it was also a tavern for the general public. There were a handful of people sitting upon simple seats by wooden tables; eating, and her mouth salivated. Avoiding stares and moving further in, she turned to her right towards somewhat of a lengthy counter and sat upon a wooden stool while lifting her travel bag from her body and placing it atop the floor beside said stool. A waitress hurried past her with her arms filled.

"Hello, sir, do you have any wine?" she queried of an older gentleman whom sauntered over to her from behind the counter; dressed in dark blue-and-white robes, and his black beard was touched with silver-grey strands.

Bamboozled and incredulous, the innkeeper peered at her with insanely stern eyes. "You are thirteen," he stated with a deadpan and crossed arms.

 _Someone finally guesses my age correctly!_ Emilia glanced behind him at some of the bottles and kegs of alcohol. She desired a drink so very badly – not only due to the stress of recent events, but also because she had not indulged herself with a lovely glass in months, since the day before she was killed on Earth. Despising alcohol, Yunan did not own even one little bottle; and throughout her stay with the Torran Peoples, Tio would make sure that she was not given any. She blinked innocently and shrugged. "It's just one of those days, well, mornings. You know how it is, don't you?"

A judgemental silence from the man consumed the air between them.

Folding her arms along the counter, a bead of sweat formed along her left temple. "I mean, well, does it really matter? Wine costs more, so it's technically a good deal on your end."

"And I am a responsible business owner." Pivoting to his right abruptly, he walked further from Emilia, to which she pouted for the nth time and rested her forehead against her arms. After a couple of minutes, her ears discerned a sloshing sound, and as footsteps neared once more, the scent of sweet lemon filled her nostrils.

"For you, little miss."

Raising her head upon hearing a little thud by it, she saw a large flagon; and peering inside of it, she noticed water with slices of lemon and cucumber. "Oh, thank you."

"You are welcome," said the innkeeper with a brow raised with concern. "Where are your parents?"

She swallowed some of that refreshing water. "Back home. I've ended up in Parthevia by accident and I have been trying to find a way out."

"A sound decision. New ships and boats were recently procured for us – you can easily find one suitable for escape. Will you be staying for the night?"

"Yes, I plan on leaving tomorrow morning."

"Good." This odd sense of relief washed over him, for he would hate to witness a child succumb to war and its' effects. "I shall return with your meal. Do you have any requests?"

Emilia smiled. "Nope, I'm good with anything . . . Except meat, but I'm fine with fish. Also, you have bathing services here, right?"

The innkeeper eyed her garb. "And laundry services, but it will cost you a little extra."

A sudden comfort washed over her at hearing that. "That's fine! And could you please ask for two meals instead of one?"

Upon her question, he saw a very tiny humanoid with wings appear from under the counter and he gaped rather dramatically.

…

Shoving her damp hair behind her and wearing nothing but a fresh pair of underwear and her long and baggy night-tunic, Emilia collapsed face-first upon a bed with sheets that were white and a pale, creamy yellow. "Mmmmm, this feels soooo good!" she exclaimed with joy into the pillow; absolutely elated about sleeping on a bed, as well as relishing in the wonderful sensation of just having taken a bath for the first time in days, since the night prior leaving Yunan's abode. The innkeeper's daughter (who worked for him) had already taken her clothes, undergarments and handkerchief for washing. Even her boots for polishing.

Fluttering around the small yet cozy room, Lërynia puffed out her cheeks with a funny look within her eyes. "Ne . . . It's only the afternoon."

The girl shifted her head. "Yes, I need to catch up on a lot of sleep!" Sitting up for a moment, she retrieved the Torran dagger by its' sheath from the nightstand and then laid back down while holding the weapon by her chest.

A surprised gasp from Lërynia pierced the air. "Ne, Emi, I've finally got it!"

Being so tired, Emilia was already on the verge of falling asleep. "Got what?"

"Your riddle about the golden treasure being hidden inside of that box without any openings – the answer is an egg!" With her eyes bulging in excitement, the faerie creepily stared at the other, desperate for the final verdict.

The girl chuckled. "Correct!"

.

* * *

.

It was mostly dark when Emilia rose from her long and deep sleep. And a little more chilly than usual; though, it did not take long to find out why: None of the sheets covered her. Beside her upon the mattress was Lërynia, sleeping, and the entirety of the sheets were all piled atop her tiny body akin to the swirl of a snail's shell.

She held a blank face with exasperation gleaming within her eyes. "You have actually got to be shitting me right now . . ."

Abruptly leaving her bed caused her lower abdomen and groin region to develop a sudden discomfort. Ignoring it, she sauntered towards the opened window; realizing that she had indeed slept through the remainder of yesterday, as well as the entire night and most of the early morning. Though it was mainly a deep, dark blue outside, there were orange and yellow-golden portions within the sky that were beginning to form.

Her eyes discerned some of the Rukh hither and thither, chirping out nonsensical things. And then a lone black Rukh fluttered in and, suddenly pitying it, Emilia rose her hand to her eye-level, to which said ethereal black bird landed upon. An unsure yet soft smile graced her features. Having only read the _Magi: Labyrinth of Magic_ manga only once, she could not remember everything about the creation of the Rukh system . . . However, she believed it to be beyond utterly asinine at the fact that the black Rukh were unable to be a part of the Great Flow, as well those who Fall were not able to "un-Fall." If white can turn black, then surely black can eventually morph back into white again? People's spirits who lose to depravity, despair and others of that ilk do not maintain that way forever. Sure, some people may die with such devastating things, but there are many others who overcome their inner demons and grow into better people than they were prior to Falling. These black Rukh were brave to offer solitude and comfort to wherever and whomever the white Rukh abandoned.

The black Rukh had been silent this entire time as it merely studied the girl before it. And then it flapped away, disappearing into the dawn with Emilia watching over it.

Increasingly irate by her suddenly growing discomfort, she pulled her underwear down and found two light spots of bright red. _Screw you. Hmm, I wonder if the innkeeper has honey . . ._ For as long as she could remember, Emilia had always craved foods that were drenched in honey whenever she was on her period.

…

Parthevians went about their day in the early morning, and the skies were a bright blue touched with a bit of cloud. Within this portion of the harbour city was a large fountain with long, stone troughs extending from it, where a few women stood by here and there to wash a few articles of clothing. Wearing her freshly-dried clothes, Emilia had been sitting upon the wide ledge of the fountain with her sketchbook opened atop her lap; a stick of lead gripped between her fingers as she allowed for her hand to dance along the page, sketching out the Parthevian-styled architecture.

"Miss Traveller, you're here!"

 _Well, fancy that._ She rose her head to meet the dark, sparkling eyes of that black-haired little boy from two mornings ago. A brief surprised took her countenance before she relaxed her posture and smiled. "And what brings you over here?"

He beamed. "I live here! Auntie and Uncle were selling fruit at that town we met."

"I see . . ." An unrelated thought invaded her mind, and she turned over a couple of pages of her sketchbook to a blank one. "Say, out of curiosity, what did your mother look like?"

"Nice, pretty . . ." The boy scrunched up his face in a struggle to recall. Pouting and kicking a bit of sand, he tilted his head to the side. "She died when I was younger, so I don't remember much. But Daddy said I look like her."

She procured a friendly smile. "Well, that's good enough!" And she proceeded to sketch.

Emilia was meticulous in her endeavour to draw this somewhat casual piece of the boy's parents. Throughout the duration of her drawing, she took much instruction from the boy whilst he was constantly describing the way his father looked, as well as correcting her when she made a mistake. She did not know how much time had passed – probably no less than two hours and no more than three? Her legs and bottom were beginning to feel numb.

The boy had been busying himself with splashing at the water when the foreigner finished. Signing her name, she took the longest minute ever to gently rip the page from her sketchbook as neatly as she could. "For you, little man."

Wiping his hands against his clothes, the child took the drawing with sparkling eyes. "Wah, it's them! You made it look like them!" he exclaimed with a wide, toothy grin. "Now they're with me forever!" Her heart warmed at witnessing his happiness; but then pointing at her signature, he spoke again: "What's that?"

"My signature." She shut her sketchbook.

"What's a 'signature'?"

"A signed name. It's proof that I was the one who drew it."

"Ohhhhhh . . . I can't read; what does it say?"

Bending her torso down to place her book and lead into her travel bag, she half-smiled warmheartedly. "'Emilia.' That is my name."

"I'm Dariush!" Though his introduction was jubilant, his visage soon turned more solemn the longer he gazed upon the picture. "You . . . You are a nice miss."

She hummed. "I'm not _that_ nice."

"You are!" Dariush blurted out stubbornly with ferocity. "Come with me; I'll have my uncle pay you –"

"No, it's alright!" Emilia quickly stood to grab his shoulder when he was about to turn around. "I did that because I wanted to, for nothing in return."

"Oh . . . Thank you," he expressed with a smile of insurmountable gratitude. "Will you be coming back when the war's done?"

"Yes! I haven't had much time to actually thoroughly explore Parthevia and really look around as I have been focusing on trying to find a way to leave; but once the war's done, I'll definitely be coming back."

Those words seemed to have pleased Dariush greatly as he stood to the tips of his toes; leaned towards her sitting self, and embraced her, to which a surprised yet soft smile graced the girl's features. He broke free from the hug a few seconds after she returned it. "I'll be waiting!" he declared; and hugging the drawing tightly against his chest, he skipped away.

"Wow, you _are_ a nice missy."

Eyebrows twitching in annoyance, she turned around with an expressionless expression wherein would have nearly matched Tio's. "Are you stalking me, good sir?"

Sinbad smiled lightheartedly, and Lërynia was perched on top of his head. "Merely observing you from afar, Emilia."

"Same difference."

Taking a few steps towards her, he laughed briefly at her weird wording. "Perhaps, perhaps. I've been told that you're trying to find a ship to leave Parthevia."

Eyes narrowing, Emilia scowled. "What else did you tell him, Lërynia?" She retrieved her bag and slung it across her torso.

The aforementioned faerie puffed out her cheeks in nervousness. "Nothing else, I swear! I told him to ask you directly if he wanted to know anything else."

Sinbad grumbled as he crossed his arms. "Well, my point being: Would you like to join me? I owe you for warning me about the soon-to-be-arriving soldiers." Due to yesterday's warning, he was able to ready a boat, as well as to properly pack for his departure.

She gazed at him thoughtfully. "Alright. I'll only be joining you for this short while, though." And then she procured a small, grateful smile. "Thank you for offering."

He mirrored her actions. "Of course, little cutie."

Smile dropping, she rose an unimpressed brow. "Just hurry up and lead the damn way."

The boy chuckled playfully as he turned, and Emilia followed suit; meandering between people and streets, and turning many a corner around buildings for a bit of time. Before long, the salty ocean-like scent assaulted the girl's nostrils.

 _Soldiers, soldiers,_ chirruped a flurry of Rukh from behind her.

They were here, already?

"Emilia?!"

With a suddenness that caught Sinbad off of his guard, Emilia shoved the boy's body against the side of a large fruits shop and behind a bountiful lemon tree. The front of his body smooshed against the mudbrick and the front of hers was squished along his back as she tightly gripped his shoulders. "Shhh," she murmured.

Confused, Lërynia fluttered around the corner, soon returning in no time. "Ne, some soldiers are riding horses down this street."

Sinbad rose a brow, honestly amused by the manner of the girl's actions. "Is that all? And here I thought Emilia liked it a little wild –"

"Do tell, Sinbad," the Otherworlder interrupted eloquently with an irritated gander down the alleyway. She stepped away from him. "Why attempt your hand at 'comedy' when you've no talent for it, at all?"

He feigned an offended glare; managing to hold in a laugh at her facial expression. "Because, regardless of my words, the expressions your face makes are very fun to see!"

"Tch."

Rolling her eyes, she trailed behind a cheekily-smirking Sinbad; and after jogging down a couple of alleyways, sunlight graced them most boldly and the winds increased their pace. The massive harbour was within sight . . . And so was a huge crowd – both of citizens and soldiers – somewhat nearby.

"Ne, Emi, it's her!" the faerie announced when she saw a possessively angry Princess Serendine yelling and kicking at this poor young man and demanding for the people to bring Sinbad to her.

The boy in demand faced Emilia and pointed towards a nearby boat with its' sail already drawn and flapping about in the breeze. It definitely was no large ship, but it was not a tiny dingy, either. Sizeable and sturdy enough, and perfect for a quick getaway. "That's the boat. I will be right back!" And he dashed away towards the crowd.

Wasting no time, Emilia ran along the docks and hopped into the boat, noticing Sinbad's supplies packed in a couple of brown leather bags. There was also an empty barrel, lord knows for whatever reason.

"Ne, Emi, that's a lot of water! The ocean looks so scary up close!" Lërynia groused fearfully; instantly shoving her tiny self away into the girl's travel bag.

 _Yeah, it really does!_ Heart beating rapidly and dropping her bag by Sinbad's, she kneeled at the stern and proceeded to loosen up the knots from a thick bit of rope wherein tied this boat to one of the dock's posts.

Ugly shrieking ungracefully attacked her ears and, swiftly leaning her torso to the side, Sinbad jumped into his boat with ease; unceremoniously throwing a raging pink-haired royal down. "How dare you treat an Imperial Princess in such a way, filthy commoner?!" Serendine screeched, and she used her legs to drag herself backwards until her back connected with the ledge along the bow of the boat. "You will be given a hundred deaths for this!" Her arms were glued around her chest, desperately hugging her violet cloak against it in an effort to preserve her modesty.

Piling the rope, Emilia merely spared Sinbad with an unimpressed gander, who then gifted her with a face so innocent, that she legitimately felt like tittering. "What?" he questioned nonchalantly as he kicked against the dock; sending the boat out to sea with Serendine never ceasing to yell nonsensical things. He presented her with a little stab wound two inches from his right wrist. "Her blade was poisoned and she hid the antidotes inside of her breastplate."

"Whatever you say," she said airily; taking said corked vials of antidotes in her left hand from the boy.

The boat moved further away from the port.

"Oh, how lucky we are to have such a lovely, polite and helpful hostage!" Sinbad expressed casually and sarcastically with a very impudent grin. Promptly turning around and nearly accidently smacking Emilia in the face with his obnoxious Rapunzel hair, he lifted the empty barrel and walked to the side of the boat; his Metal Vessel lightly slapping against the side of his left thigh. "Thank you so very much for your assistance, cutie!"

Serendine growled, but then her flushed face deepened into a darker scarlet upon finally noticing Emilia's presence. "It's . . . It's you! Reiman dog; I should have known that you and this pathetic expatriate were secretly working together!"

A splash was heard when Sinbad plopped the barrel into the waters.

"For fuck's sake." Emilia was so done with this. With her right hand, she face-palmed herself so hard that the smack resonated loudly, and the way that Sinbad had peered at her told her that he might be worrying a little for her sanity. "Such an ignorant child – I am not a spy!"

"And I am not ignor– PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW OR YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES MANY TIMES OVER!"

As per Serendine's demand, the purple-haired boy did put her down . . . By tossing her into that lone barrel in which was starting to float away from the boat. "Don't worry – that barrel will stay afloat, and your soldiers will be able to rescue you soon enough! Once again, thank you for being so cooperative. Goodbye, cutie!"

Serendine's shrieking gradually faded and, once she became a dot and Contastia Harbour morphed into distant, tiny shapes; Emilia sighed loudly and leant her back against the side of the boat, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

"Well, I am glad that's over with!" Gleeful as he was to have embarked upon the beginnings of his adventure outside of his home country for the very first time, Sinbad, standing by the mast, gazed upon his new companion's agitated form. "Are . . . Are you alright?"

Emilia smirked distastefully, and the way that her pupils stared up at him almost perceived her as unhinged. "All of that shrieking gave me a damn headache. I'm too old for this shite! Just what did I do to deserve to go through all of this?!"

 _Yunan, take me back!_

.

* * *

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***

*** After Note II – On my portrayal of the faeries, their magical abilities, and deciding on their names: I'm basically borrowing just a lil' bit of inspiration from the way that J.R.R. Tolkien wrote his elves in his very detailed and expansive world, especially the elves of the Sindar and Laiquendi (Silvan and Nandor) races since they are far more nature/animal-oriented in comparison to the Noldor and Vanyar. The name 'Lërynia' is one of the feminine versions to the name 'Lërynion,' which is just an elvish name that I had come up with for an OC who serves as High King Gil-Galad's general in my dragon-focused Tolkien fanfiction. :3 ***

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 **Guest:** Thanks! Have a great week~ :D

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	8. To Winter Lands We Go

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those reading, favouring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

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 **~ 007 – To Winter Lands We Go ~**

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"The purpose of our life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience."

~ Eleanor Roosevelt

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Emilia dearly wished that she was on land.

The wind was a curious contrast of being profound yet gentle with invisible fingers delicately combing through her silken hair and massaging her scalp, nearly feeling as though Yunan's dainty yet strong hand took shape to tenderly brush through her tresses. She could easily be lulled to sleep in this regard, if only she were not feeling a little anxious and queasy. Groaning lowly, she had been sitting cross-legged with both of her arms and legs glued around the somewhat small boat's mast, hugging her body against it for dear life; albeit, she managed to hold an untroubled and collected expression. She had a small bruise along the centre of her forehead from where she had face-palmed herself. Long and dark eyelashes fluttered as she opened her lids and inclined her head to the side, and half of her face was hidden behind the mast when she quietly observed her companions' interactions.

"It's a fish, right? It has to be a fish."

"Ne, you are correct!"

Sinbad had already put those stolen antidotes from Serendine into good use, and Lërynia was now wrapping a couple of long reeds around his forearm in order to combine the greenery with her faerie dust to close that little stab wound. With fascinated eyes, the boy scrutinized the humanoid's healing process; his cowlick innocently bobbing about in the breeze absent any signs of settling down.

 _Seriously, what sorcery is this?_

The girl blinked thrice when an unexpectedly harsh gush of wind blew by and stung her eyes, and she inspected the boy's side profile whilst recalling the manga and her interactions with him thus far: Casual and kind with others regardless of them being family or complete strangers; a seemingly constant carefree nature, whether he was actually feeling as such or it was a mere mask; never wavering in his resolves; world-changing goals anyone can agree with; admirably innate leadership skills wherein seemed as though they had always been there; intrinsically charismatic, resourceful and with a sense of pride . . . Emilia acknowledged that these traits of Sinbad were indeed good traits – characteristics that would assist him in all of what he wished to accomplish. At least, for the most part, lest their effects backfired as she knew that they would during a few times in the future. And then there was his ego problem, albeit that was more so an issue for Adult Sinbad rather than Teenager Sinbad.

She found it weirdly hilarious that she barely owned any opinion regarding this person. She read the _Labyrinth of Magic_ manga once; she saw its' corresponding anime seasons three times; she watched the _Adventures of Sinbad_ series once; Sinbad was a major character, and yet, she just did not know what to make of him. _I really need to stop calling these people "characters" because they are no longer characters from a story. They're real people; and just because I know their fictional story counterparts, doesn't mean that I actually thoroughly know them in person. There's still a lot for me to learn._

"I'm honoured, Emilia, but I thought you were the type to just go ahead and say something rather than stare at a man's good looks?"

Meeting his playfully smug visage, she procured a half-exasperated glare. "Actually, I was glancing at your sword. The Djinn's symbol was glowing again for a moment, there."

"It was. I don't know why, though."

Emilia did and she was very surprised that Mephisto's star had not yet glowed to greet Baal; yet in all honesty, she was glad. She did not want anyone knowing of her status as a Dungeon Conqueror . . . Not to mention that since her mental argument with her supercilious Djinn the other day, he did not have his consciousness join hers as he usually would. Clearly, he was stubbornly playing the silent treatment; then again, so was she in a way. "Me neither," she lied nonchalantly, but then the boat jerked a little violently atop the sparkling, dancing waves and that had her gasp; squeezing the mast much tighter than before.

Sinbad rose an entertained brow. "Aww, are you scared of the ocean?"

"Nope!" Blushing sheepishly, she childishly avoided his gaze. "I'm just not a very good swimmer." Recalling her time spent within the Torran Village, Tio had only begun to teach her the art of swimming around one week prior to his choosing to disappear into Mephisto's Dungeon.

Sauntering over, he lowered himself before her with encouragement gleaming within his eyes. "Don't worry; nothing bad will happen with me around! And if something unexpected does happen, then you can believe in my ability to save you," he uttered with peppy confidence and a lighthearted wink. "Trust me. I can read the waves well; we will be alright."

 _He's right, he's right,_ a few Rukh chirped. _Safe, safe . . ._

"If you say so . . . Thank you." Emilia's grip slackened from the mast; his words had, admittedly, reassured her considerably. She still preferred to be on land, though. Holding an innocent expression, the corners of her lips twitched up into a near-impish smile. "Say . . . You mentioned previously about me being younger than you?"

"Yes; I'm fourteen, nearly a man grown."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed with your young-looking face – you still have some baby fat on your cheeks! It's adorable and they look so squishyyyyy."

"H-hey, stop that!" A disbelieving and vaguely-blushing Sinbad lightly swiped her hand away (her fingers were just about to pinch his left cheek) and, feeling as though her words had sullied just a hint his pride, he held a little pout whilst standing right back up again with his arms dramatically crossed over his chest. "I take back my words to you this morning: You are not a nice missy at all."

Emilia stood after him. "Well, I'm glad that you're finally aware of that." Smirking, she tootled towards her travel bag by the stern of their boat.

Golden amber eyes trailing after the back of her head, the boy inwardly smirked. _Ah, this'll be fun_. He was not accustomed to people – especially girls – teasing him, especially to the point of having a noticeable reaction being elicited from him. Usually, he was immune to it, and he was the one to make others blush and become rather docile or comically embarrassed through his words . . . Unless his mother was involved. Esra would probably have to be the only person wherein he would legitimately fall victim to her teasing every time, as well as his father when he was much, much younger. The sudden thought of his parents, more so his just recently-deceased mother, dulled a part of his cheerful mood.

 _"Sinbad! You grow up wonderfully, alright? You grow into a fine man who is able to protect those precious to him. Take care of your mother for me, alright? Daddy loves you, Sin, and you and Esra will never stray from my thoughts and heart."_

Poignant, the memory of Badr's final words to his past five-year-old self resonated within him and he felt his heart constrict. The promise regarding Esra was woefully broken, and he wondered that if he had exited Baal's Dungeon one month earlier, hell, even one week prior to her death; then he would have been able to use the Dungeon's treasures to purchase only the best medicines in order to cure her. Unfortunately, something told him that she would have succumbed to her illness anyways. Although his knowledge of medicines and maladies was rather elementary, he knew that there were certain sicknesses in which no form of medication would rectify, no matter how many times the healers and surgeons would study and experiment . . .

Emilia found the happily-humming faerie lounging about inside of her travel bag when she opened the main flap and proceeded to rummage through her items. "Ah, Lërynia, you seem very relaxed now," she commented amiably with a smirk. "The ocean no longer frightens you?"

Fluttering back up into the air, she held a half-eaten date between her hands. "Ne, the waves are so alive! I'm too fascinated to be scared – there's nothing like this beyond the Rift, I don't think." And then catching Emilia pulling out one of her cloth pads, the faerie flew a few feet away towards Sinbad to give the other her privacy.

"Sinbad, could you please turn around?" the girl asked amicably when she turned; noticing the boy in deep thought and seeming to be a little troubled. She rose a brow in concern. "Are you alright?"

"What? Oh, yes, it's no problem. Thank you for asking, little cutie." He smiled cheekily. Lërynia continued to munch on her date as she landed upon his head.

Emilia scowled. "Turn around, you."

He wasted no time in doing as such when she began to unbuckle her belt, and he loosely crossed his arms over his abdomen. "I'm curious to know why the princess was angry with you. Did you do something to her?"

"Mm? Oh, we crossed paths before you found me near Tison. I just verbally smacked reality into her face, but she didn't know how to take it like a proper, responsible adult with class. And then she has the audacity to accuse me of being a Reiman spy."

A quick chuckle flew out of his mouth at her choice of words. "So, you're not from Reim, then?" he presumed.

"No; my brief time spent in Parthevia was the first time I've been on that shared continent, actually." And then he heard her curse and mutter, "Well, this is disgusting . . . Okay, I'm done!"

Upon hearing a splash as he turned, the boy caught Emilia bending over the side of the boat with her hands in the water, a pale pink blush and a frustrated pout; and tentatively striding towards her, he saw blood filtering out into the sea from this bit of white cloth. His eyes widened in alarm. "You didn't say that you were injured!" He kneeled by her and gripped her shoulder; his pupils darting all over her body. "When did this happen? Where's the wound?"

Suddenly, the girl's irritated face morphed into one of amusement, and even the faerie giggled. "Ne, that's not what you think it is!" Lërynia sang.

"I'm not injured!" Emilia replied with peculiar mirth. "I am merely on my period." Removing his hand from her shoulder, Sinbad cocked his head to the side in stark confusion. "Oh, you know, menstruation? When women bleed a river through their vaginas once a month while feeling as though a hundred piranhas may as well be chewing out our uteruses?"

Mouth faintly hanging ajar for two seconds, the boy awkwardly cleared his throat right after cringing in horror. "Must you describe it so graphically?"

After cleaning as much as she could, the girl rang the water from her pad and settled it atop the rail of the boat for drying. She dared to shrug in the most pure and cavalier of ways. "Well, it is what it is. Why sugar-coat it?"

"Point taken." Sinbad – completely understanding her as he was also one to not necessarily speak with a filter on – merely stood right back up with an ambivalent smirk.

"Ne, you poor humans." An uncharacteristically haughty presence surrounded Lërynia, and she took to the airs. "We faeries don't menstruate, heehee!"

Dramatically gaping, Emilia felt like her world was shattered; as though she had just witnessed the death of a puppy; as though someone had stolen all of her precious honey and was gobbling up all of the chocolate in the world . . . Composing herself, she glared dangerously towards the faerie. "Oh, get out of here! There's no need to rub it in my face." Smoothing out the flared black skirts of her short dress, Lërynia merely giggled smugly, and Emilia unbuckled her sword belt; settling her Metal Vessel by her side as she turned to relax her back against the ledge of the boat and beside her travel bag with her legs outstretched before her.

"So, Emilia," Sinbad began amiably whilst settling down by his travel bag with his back against the boat's rail and his legs also outstretched before him; facing the girl and scrutinizing her style of clothing. "Are you related to Yunan?" Pulling out his water skin, he proceeded to drink.

Emilia procured for him a knowing and amused visage. "Hehe, nope! You know, I had a feeling that the question would be running around in your mind since we've first met. I'm just surprised that you have waited this long to ask."

"Is that so?" he uttered with a brow raised. The manner in which she had worded that was a bit odd.

"But I did live with him for a bit – that's why I know that you know him, because he shares his tales of travel with me and he mentioned you."

His satisfaction with her believable explanation was clearly evident across his face. "You actually lived with a magician . . . That does sound exciting, but Yunan's a weird man, so what was it like staying with him?" An image of Emilia huddling around in a small, completely dark and cramped house filled with barrels consumed his mind for a moment.

"He's a meanie!" Lërynia groused with agitation and puffed-out cheeks. She had been reclining along the girl's head. "He yells at me whenever I nap in certain areas, especially his potato barrel! It's not my fault his barrel's so cozy."

"Now, now; you just have to work it out with him whether you like it or not." Emilia snickered before returning her gaze towards the boy, who seemed positively amused by the faerie's whining. "Yes, he is rather eccentric, isn't he? I do like him, though, I must admit, his childishness and his sometimes questionable actions can be exasperating at times . . . But he's fun to tease; he makes himself out as an easy target sometimes. It's all so very entertaining and he's genuinely a good person. I, ah, owe him for finding me."

"He found you?" That piqued Sinbad's interest. Taking another gulp of water, he shoved his water skin back into his bag. "Just how long have you been living with him?"

"Since the beginning of this year."

"Where are you from, then?" The boy did not ask the faerie this as well, for the two of them had already conversed as such the other day when he was accompanying them to Contastia Harbour. He noticed a faint hint of hesitation from Emilia as soon as she parted her lips, instantly closing them tightly as well as somewhat of a discomfort suddenly shrouding her being.

"Ne, ne, I want to know, too!" Lërynia exclaimed energetically whilst she bounced on top of the girl's hair.

He tilted his head to the side. "Wait, you don't know, either?"

"No, only Meanie Yunan knows."

Lips stabilizing at neither smile nor frown, the Otherworlder sighed in irritancy. "And I thought you said that you were fine about not prying any further than 'some far-away land that I can never return to?'"

"But, but, but, that was then! This is now and I really want to know. It's only fair since you know where I'm from!"

Staring right into Emilia's pupils with some surprise and hesitant concern, Sinbad was taken aback by the final few words of her sentence. Was she in a similar situation as him? Were these just false words to deter anyone from bothering to continue on with their queries? Or was it neither? "What is the name of your country?" he asked with both confident curiosity and a tinge of uncertainty in regards as to what her reaction may be to his question; if she would actually answer it or would command silence on the matter. "I wonder if it's one I've heard of. It would not take long for us to regain our bearings once we reach land and, if you want to, I can help with getting you back?"

 _Whatever, I'll just get this over with._ "Thank you, but you can't. No one can." Emilia's face relaxed after a few seconds; a near-blankness consuming it in contradiction to her wistful tone of a yearning return: "'Canada' is the name of the country I was born and raised in."

The weird name perplexed Sinbad. "I've definitely never heard of that one."

"Nor would you ever." She held almost a bitterly wry smirk. "It's not on a map. Not on any map, really. It's a . . . Very secluded country. Ah . . . How do I explain this?" For a moment, she touched a finger to her slightly parted lips. "In my country, no one is aware of the outside world, and so this part of the globe is like a completely different world for us. Similarly, the rest of the world is unaware of Canada's existence, and so it would also feel like an entirely different land to you and everyone else not from there."

This further intrigued the dark purple-haired boy and he held a smile. "Surrounded in unfamiliar land since the start of this year – these past few months have been quite the adventure for you, haven't they?"

"I guess," came her flat response, and her gaze was absentmindedly focused on her hands languidly resting atop her lap.

It was rather alien to Sinbad at hearing someone sound indifferent and uninterested at something as amazing and exhilarating as adventure. "And . . . Are you trying to find your way back?"

"No, it's impossible to return."

"Ne, why?" Lërynia queried. "I know you said your country's not on any map, but if you just wander and explore randomly then maybe you might accidently come across it one day?"

Emilia chuckled. "That's, ah, not how it works in my situation. Once you leave, you can never return. I was kind of banished, in a way, for no reason."

"As was I." Turning his head to the side, Sinbad's gaze was glued into the waters and beyond the empty horizon, towards the direction of his home country. "I was labelled a 'traitor' and 'expatriate' for capturing the Dungeon for the betterment of the Parthevian people and the world, refusing to cooperate with the government's greed and need for war."

She nearly frowned. _How blatantly unfair._

His solemn expression then relaxed into a friendly yet determined one as he re-met the girl's face. "Are you trying to find a good place to be your new home?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes. I aim to regain my life and build it into a better one than before." And then, faintly tilting her head to the side, she decided to feign ignorance like so many times in the past. "What about your parents, then? Will they be safe in Parthevia?"

With yearning eyes, Sinbad held a seemingly boyish smile. "My father was killed in the war when I was five, and my mother recently succumbed to her illness."

Her gaze softened as she truly felt sorry for the youth. _Ha, it seems like ever since I came to this world, I'm starting to actually feel sorry for a lot more people here compared to back home . . ._ "My condolences, Sinbad." Shifting her position, she now sat cross-legged by the boy's side; her pupils meeting his. "I'm sorry about your situation and your parents. I'm sure that they were very lovely people; after all, you are proof of that."

Feeling a tinge of warmth at her bold yet kind words, his initial visage of gratefulness then morphed into one of playfulness after a few moments. "Oh? Is the little missy falling for me already?"

Emilia crossed her arms with an abrupt glower. "Don't be so insufferably obnoxious, kid."

Sinbad laughed. "I was only teasing! But . . . Thank you for your words."

"No problem." Smirking lightheartedly, she shifted in her seat again so that she was directly beside Sinbad with her back leaning against the side of the boat. "So . . . You've been inside of a Dungeon. What was that like?" she asked; knowing that regaling his adventure would lighten his mood.

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"I hate this," Emilia grumbled as she sunk to her bottom; taking a brief, absentminded gander towards the waters that were ethereally illuminated by the silvery glow of the stars and the moon from the dark sky.

Sinbad swallowed the last of his pear. "Good to see you finally settling down; your pacing for the past hour was making me dizzy."

"It hasn't been _that_ long."

He shrugged with an impish flippancy. "Sure it wasn't."

"Neehhhhhhh . . ." Lërynia collapsed upon the boy's travel bag with this tortured look on her face. "I'm sooooo boooorrrrred. I didn't think that we would be adrift for the whole day." Though, it did seem like they had travelled over quite a bit of distance.

"Me neither," the Otherworlder grumbled.

Rolling his eyes, the Parthevian smirked. "Such is life at sea, ladies! Get used to it," he replied; his dark hair ruffling in the chilly, salty night breeze.

"Sadly. I don't like this waiting around . . . Wait, Lërynia, did you eat all of my dates?" the girl queried after rummaging through her bag and closing the flap.

"Yes, they were so delicious! Not as good as grapes, though."

Unimpressed, she deadpanned. "Next time I buy grapes, I'm going to bind you up with my hair ties and force you to watch me eat a giant cluster of them," she threatened, and she felt her period cramps intensifying.

Lërynia gasped; scandalized. "Yunan's meanie-ness is influencing you!"

Procuring a sigh and then immediately letting out a yawn, Emilia managed to calm herself. "Sinbad, are you tired?" She turned her face to an entertained-looking boy as she lowered herself further along the boat and rested her head against her travel bag as a makeshift pillow.

"No, I am still wide awake unlike a certain cranky someone over here," he jested brazenly. "You go ahead and sleep, and I'll keep watch in the meantime."

 _Cranky Emi, Cranky Emi,_ the Rukh giggled boisterously. _Stupid cramps, stupid cramps; heeheehee!_

Mentally telling the Rukh to go " _Fuck off_ ," she scrutinized the youth with slightly narrowed eyes. "Are you sure that you're fine with that?"

"Completely fine!" Sinbad reassured her vehemently. "And then I'll wake you later on for us to switch places."

"Fair enough." Tiredly shutting her eyelids, Emilia nuzzled her face into her bag and turned her body to the side; and after pulling out her Torran dagger by the scabbard, she gripped it by her chest. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight." Raising a brow in curiousness, he discreetly pointed to her dagger and looked at the faerie, who then fluttered towards his right ear.

"Ne, she can't sleep without it," Lërynia whispered.

Time flew while the boat continued to drift on northwards; Emilia's breathing gradually became near-quiet as her chest rose and fell in a steady and unnoticeable rhythm, and Sinbad tugged a cream-coloured blanket from his travel bag and carefully draped it over her body before then relaxing his back against said bag. Allowing for his mind to drift, he took a gander to his side, towards the scimitar that was once his father's and the eight-pointed star wherein currently glowed for the umpteenth time for a few seconds.

" _You wish to right the wrongs of the world, is that it? Then you yourself should become a king. Change this country and the world, and the first step to it is to obtain the Dungeon's power as your own."_

Such were Yunan's grand words a couple of months prior; and as the man continued on about Dungeons and Djinns and what it had meant for someone to successfully conquer one, Sinbad had then passionately declared that he would, indeed, seize the power and change the world from its' current state of affairs. It was funny: For a moment just after stating as such to the magician, Sinbad had to ponder intensely if that decision had really been his; if Yunan's presence was somehow controlling him to undergo that decision, but then he instantaneously decided against the notion. This goal, this ambition was most definitely Tison Village's young sailor and fisherman, Sinbad's, else he would not have immediately agreed to enter the First Dungeon, Baal. Not to mention that deep within the crevices of his heart, he had been secretly wishing for some sort of world-changing miracle. In fact, shortly after he and his dear Esra had received the notice of Badr's death, his young self had begun to dream of better, more peaceful futures; of a world absent suffering and corruption; of a possibility where he was an influential king who was slowly yet surely endeavouring towards a happier world.

Of course, he had to suppress these dreams and thoughts . . . Until the mysterious Yunan eccentrically appeared one random morning and offered him this too-amazing-for-words opportunity that was a once in a lifetime, and that had rekindled those past thoughts and his monumental desires.

Lazily, his head lulled to the side; his rich, warm eyes cascading down Emilia's long snowy white hair in which had seemed to have this beautiful glow akin to the most delicate of all platinum due to the light of the strong and full moon. Her lips moved about, a mumble-moan about "Waffles and cheesecake drenched with melted chocolate" emerging from them . . . Whatever those things were. He contemplated on possibly asking the girl if she would like to join him in his endeavours. To turn his ambition into reality, he needed help, he needed friends and allies, and she could be one of them. Being forced out of their home countries, they both had to regain their lives and build them into better ones than before, so why not do it together and with future allies who were willing to assist him in realizing his dream? Besides, there was a part of him that did pity her, but the feeling was mutual. She definitely looked like she was feeling sorry for him a little earlier on, as well.

"I can't sleep," Lërynia complained in a half-whisper as she flopped about against Emilia's head where she had been attempting to sleep, using the girl's hair as a blanket. "Ne, Sinbad, do you want to share riddles? Tell stories? I'm too wide awake."

The boy chuckled. "Alright. Tell me another one of those interesting riddles."

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Dipping her Torran dagger into the water and swishing it around, Emilia gently wiped the flat of the blade against the purple sleeve of her tunic before then sheathing it; her expectant eyes sweeping over the slim apple slices that she had laid upon her handkerchief, as well as her honey. She was so, so grateful to herself that she had remembered to purchase a small jar of honey the other morning when she was still at Contastia Harbour. She would have bought a larger jar, yet there was unfortunately not a lot of room left in her travel bag. Procuring a wide, girlish grin, she eagerly picked up a slice to dunk it in that glorious golden substance.

It was so very bright outside with barely any clouds, and the girl wondered if this boat will be reaching land sometime soon; rather, she dearly hoped that she would see land at least before the day was done. She could not stand doing basically nothing for a prolonged period of time.

Smirking, she chuckled to herself at Sinbad rolling around in his sleep with his blanket twisting around his legs and pooling down from his shoulders to his waist; clearly dreaming of flirting with ladies given from what he was mumbling about. Swallowing her fifth slice of honey-drenched apple, she could not help but roll her eyes in amusement.

Suddenly, a blur of pink and black zoomed out from the back of the boy's shoulder. "Ne, he nearly squished me!" Lërynia groused as she rubbed at her eyes wherein were threatening to produce tears.

"Then don't sleep near giant people," Emilia chastised with an impudent half-smile.

"But it's more comfortable to sleep with other people!"

"You sound like a cat. Here, you'll feel better after eating this." She held the honeyed slice of apple aloft, to which the faerie promptly gobbled it all up in the most uncouth of ways. Pretending that she had not just witnessed such an offensive display of manners, Emilia quickly finished her snack and placed her honey jar and handkerchief in her bag.

"Ne . . . How does it even stay up like that all the time?"

The Otherworlder turned to see the tiny humanoid examining Sinbad's lengthy cowlick, and the boy, once again, twisted in his sleep, his right arm flinging upwards behind his head and nearly smacking Lërynia. "I genuinely don't know," she replied with a comically uncertain look on her face – she was tempted to laugh.

Hesitant, the faerie tugged on that peculiar bit of hair and she half-expected it to flick back towards her like a whip. "Ne, I wonder if water will flatten it?"

Emilia leaned closer and pressed the cowlick flat against his head. "You know, I somehow doubt that." Upon removing her hand, the aforementioned cowlick bounced right back up in less than a millisecond, bobbing about nearly every second.

Lërynia held this funny mixed expression of fear and fascination. "I think his hair's cursed!"

Before Emilia could respond, she felt something suddenly brush against her breasts: Sinbad's hand when he had turned in his sleep for the nth time. Eyebrows and lips twitching, the unimpressed girl brought her hand to his nose and squeezed his nostrils together. "WAKE UP RIGHT NOW!"

The faerie fluttered away whilst Sinbad coughed and took in a deep breath of fresh mid-morning air, and he glared groggily at his annoyed-looking companion. "You are a cruel girl," he declared with such creepily calm ferocity before getting up to splash water on his face.

…

Emilia had been lying down on the boat whilst stretching out her limbs and back akin to a cat and Sinbad had been standing by the bow, searching out yonder the horizon to see if he could discern land when it began to rain . . . Well, it had at least seemed like rain at first. After a great splash of water, a plethora of fish and fully-grown palm trees descended from the sky; a deep yell was nearing the boat from a distance; Emilia abruptly rolled forward and towards Sinbad in a panic, and crashing right into the spot where she was seconds prior was an Imuchakk man. Boat rocking violently, the girl barely yelped; and she was bewildered as to why said boat had not even split in half from the newcomer's impact, but she was utterly relieved all the same.

"Ne, Emi, Sin, it's a super-giant man!" Lërynia exclaimed with wonder.

Sinbad was clearly taken aback at the grand and insanely muscular, robust physic of this person. Lowering to his knees, he cocked his head to the side. "Sir, are you alright?"

"I'm sorry!" the man said as he quickly rose to his knees, slouching in his posturing, and a timorous air surrounded him. Shirtless, he wore nothing but a dark blue skirt-like garment wherein was wrapped around his waist and trailed to below his knees, trimmed in white fur, and a plethora of grey-brown sacks filled with items hung around his hips from the belt that they were attached to. A great harpoon was strapped across his back. His straight and thick hair was this beautiful shade of royal blue, and it was so long that even though it was tied into a high ponytail, the ends of it still came down to his tailbone. Faintly shorter portions of his tresses fell from either side of his face and settled themselves against his chest, but the rest of his hair covered his eyes. Sweating nervously, he awkwardly scratched at the back of his head. "I had not expected to find other people in the middle of the northern sea like this . . . I'm so terribly sorry . . ."

"It is no big deal!" Casually waving his apology away, the Parthevian smiled. "I didn't expect to see another person like this either. My companions and I have been adrift for over a day now – can you help us find our way to the nearest country to us?"

Emilia caught a glimpse of yellow-golden irises from behind Hinahoho's hair. "Y-yes . . . I can help you with that," he replied in a tone that lacked confidence.

"Great! Thank you very much, mister."

"'Thank you,' he says!" the Imuchakk cried with such abundant gratitude; fat tears spilling out of his eyes profusely as he attempted to compose himself. "I haven't had someone say that to me such in a long time!"

"Ne, ne, what's wrong?" A concerned Lërynia flew around him, and even the boy seemed a bit worried.

"S-sorry, I don't get thanked often . . . Because my body is frail compared to the others . . . And they say that my personality is like a dried-up husk of a fish. Ah, my younger sister is going to rebuke me for the thousandth time, now."

Although Emilia held a rather serene countenance, her mentality was cringing. _Good lord. No, no, no; this is all wrong. Give me back the Hinahoho that I know well from Valefor's Dungeon onwards. This isn't normal. Timid Hina is scaring me._ And then she felt bad for thinking that; it was not his fault that he was a late-bloomer, and it did not help that his society was harsh on the young men who continuously failed their coming-of-age rituals.

"BROTHER!" That far-away scream came from a nearing female figure who was furiously oaring a boat (said boat looking more like this weirdly flat and long piece of wood than an actual boat) at such a rapid speed. "I'M SORRY FOR MY UNRELIABLE BROTHER BARGING INTO YOUR BOAT SO RUDELY LIKE THIS!" she hollered passionately in conjunction with leaping from her "boat" and onto Sinbad's; her strong hand forcing the giant man's face down and the two of them lowered their torsos into a bow.

Both Sinbad and Emilia recoiled a bit with awkward expressions and widened eyes, unsure of how to feel about this overzealous newcomer. The boy broke the sudden silence: "Ah . . . No, it's alright. No harm was done. We were actually glad to finally see someone after being adrift at sea for over a day."

"I'm so happy to hear that!" the relieved and quite pretty Imuchakk girl expressed as she rose her torso with a bright, innocent smile, and her brother slowly followed suit whilst nursing his face for a moment (it had unfortunately collided with the floor of the boat). Golden brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She had a long fringe, and her straight and somewhat shaggy thick hair fell along her neck – some of the longer tresses falling from either side of her face and to the tips of her shoulders – and it was this bright, cyan blue in colour. A sleeveless, formfitting white tunic was tucked into a white fur-trimmed blue skirt in which stopped around her upper thighs and around her waist was a wide cloth belt of blue with white fur. Like her older brother, she was barefooted.

Sinbad scrutinized the toned and very tall body on the female who had a surprisingly young and cute face that did not seem to match it from what he was used to. "Do all of the people in your country have large bodies?" he queried.

"Yes!" the girl replied proudly with a puffed-up chest. "We are of the Imuchakk Tribe that is located in the Extreme North."

"Every Imuchakk is like this," the one who has yet to be named 'Hinahoho' piped up with a small smile. Emilia noticed that since his sibling had arrived, he seemed to have regained just a bit of his confidence. "I daresay that to you three, you would not expect a thirteen-year-old to look as my younger sister does."

One look at Sinbad's sudden self-assured and lightheartedly-smirking face had Emilia roll her eyes and sigh inaudibly. "I see," he uttered in a smooth voice as he picked up the robust girl's right hand so very tenderly. "Well, regardless of appearances and cultural differences, a beautiful lady is a beautiful lady, after all."

"Huh?" The Imuchakk girl cocked her head to the side, utterly bamboozled; her older brother procured this blank, awkward and bewildered visage; Emilia held this wide, complacent smirk, to which Sinbad had unfortunately met upon turning his face away with a little pout and a whisper of swear word. Glaring into icy blue irises, the boy turned around again with a wide grin.

"I'm Sinbad."

"I am Pipirika."

"Ne, ne, I'm Lërynia!" The humanoid excitedly bounced atop Emilia's head.

"So you _are_ a faerie!" Pipirika exclaimed in awe when she leaned forward to poke at one of the magical being's wings, and even Hinahoho seemed interested.

"I nearly thought that I was dreaming at first," the older brother commented.

"I know! I've only read about your kind in stories, but to know that you actually exist . . . Wow." Settling into a cross-legged position, her friendly gaze lowered to Emilia's. "And what's your name?"

It was then that Emilia realized that she had been silent throughout this entire conversation thus far. "My full name's 'Emilia Walker.'"

Sinbad rose a brow. "I didn't know you had a last name. Are you from a noble family?"

She half-smiled. "No, everyone where I'm from owns a surname. Owning one or more middle names is also quite common."

"Imuchakks only have one name," Pipirika spoke up, "but we can be given titles if we accomplish something notable and difficult, and worthy enough to sing an eternity of praises for."

"Is that so?" Sinbad glanced from the girl to her elder brother with a good-natured smile. "What is yours?"

"I –"

"He doesn't have one," came Pipirika's mercilessly blunt response.

"Ah, don't tell them that!" Hinahoho exclaimed anxiously with sweat cascading along various parts of his face.

"But it's true."

"Why don't you have a name?" Sinbad pondered.

Pipirika explained that only Imuchakk boys were given childhood names for their younger years and that once they reach adulthood, they were then obligated to undergo their people's coming-of-age ceremony, the result of which was being acknowledged as a "true man" as well as being given a new, official adult name as proof of it. "Of course, young adults who haven't successfully completed the ceremony yet will be known as 'nameless' . . . Like my hopeless brother over here . . ." A fiery passion abruptly consumed her livid eyes and she shook her brother by his neck. "ARGH, HOW COULD YOU HAVE FAILED AGAIN, YOU USELESS BROTHER?!"

"But . . . I-I . . . Alm-ost . . . Go-t it!" the poor man managed to choke out.

"'ALMOST' IS NOT A VICTORY! You're twenty-one – you should've defeated it ages ago!"

"Ne, ne, no fighting!" a genuinely worried Lërynia called out.

Emilia's eyes widened. "Pipirika, I don't see how continuing on like this will do anything productive."

Sinbad awkwardly smiled, and a bead of sweat formed along his cheek. "Yes, please calm down. And then maybe you two can talk it out calmly and without shouting?" he tentatively attempted to quell her, which did seem to work since her hands fell from her brother's neck. "What is this 'it,' anyways? Is there an enemy stalking you?"

His question was like magic, for Pipirika beamed so very brightly, her anger and disappointment instantly dissipating as though such feelings belonged to a very distant memory. "The rampaging unicorn! Imuchakk's coming-of-age ceremony is also a bit of a test of courage – you must use your strength and wisdom to fight and conquer a rampaging unicorn. Amazing, isn't it? I promise it's much more exciting to see it in person!"

Sinbad posed like a man in deep thought, mumbling "Rampaging unicorn" over and over again in intrigue.

Poking the side of his head, Emilia smirked. "You don't know what it is, do you?"

"Nope!" He sounded a little too happy and enthusiastic for such an answer.

"It is this huge type of fish," Hinahoho spoke as he unsheathed a dagger and proceeded to carve into the wood of the boat's floor. It did not take long for him to complete an image of a serpentine beast with a long horn in which had multiple spikes protrude out from it in a crude yet artistic sort of way.

An impressed whistle flew out of Emilia's mouth. "You carve rather well."

The Parthevian chimed in agreement at her words.

Not expecting a sincere compliment on his art (and especially from someone whom he had just met), Hinahoho was near-hesitant with his thanks. "Oh . . . W-well thank –"

"That is more monster than fish, though," Sinbad observed with severe incredulousness.

"No, there really are fish that look like this! There are many of them out there."

"Ne, it looks so pretty!" Lërynia said. "I really want to see one."

"Umm . . . I drew one, too . . ." An envious Pipirika creepily yet aggressively stared at everyone else akin to a human possessed while she presented her own carving of the sea beast: A deformed zombie pufferfish with a stick that was weeping with the blood of its' enemies was what it had sadly resembled. Lërynia shrieked and avoided looking at it for more than a second, and both of the males in the group simultaneously agreed that it more so bore a resemblance to an undead monster than an aquatic creature.

"Whatever!" Huffing loudly, the Imuchakk sheathed her dagger and crossed her arms. "Drawing is so girly, anyway."

With a brow raised, Emilia smiled impudently. "Pipirika, your jealousy is showing," she murmured in a smooth, teasing singsong. Rukh chirping, she then noticed how restless the waves were in the distance.

"IS NOT!" the aforementioned girl fired back in denial before continuing on to her brother, emphasizing her final two words. "Brother, you can't keep missing. That woman will turn around and acknowledge you if you _man up_."

Hinahoho's body sagged against the floor. "Yes . . . You're right," he mumbled feebly into the wood with a waterfall of tears spilling from his eyes. "I must, I must . . . Work hard to propose!" The still-sobbing yet wholeheartedly-determined man rose back up. "That person will surely notice me once I claim victory over the rampaging unicorn and become an exemplary warrior. I will endeavour for her affections, and I won't return to the village until I defeat the creature!"

Joyfully patting his back, Pipirika's eyes gleamed proudly. "I will always be by your side for support! But you must remember who this woman is – you have to work ten times as hard for her." An image of Rurumu popped into Emilia's head, and she absentmindedly rolled her eyes halfway with a humoured smile at Sinbad's obvious interest when he asked who this special lady was. Pipirika seemed more than glad to explain: "Only the most beautiful and strongest of all Imuchakk women! Both she and her father have declined hundreds of proposals – many from some of our best warriors, even – so she's as unattainable as the sun. Oh, Brother, why did you have to choose a lady from very high standing?! She may not even notice you until you reach your thirties, and she'll definitely be married by then."

The young man's small, gentle smile told Emilia that despite his lack of confidence, he was surprisingly sure that such would not be the final outcome. From what she had recalled, Rurumu had so easily accepted Hinahoho's proposal with joy and pride shortly after his coming-of-age ceremony and his escapade into Valefor's Dungeon. Here, the large girl was talking about the woman refusing _hundreds_ of proposals beforehand . . . Clearly, Rurumu and Hinahoho secretly had a bit of history. Probably? But, of course, no one would know because Rurumu held Imuchakk traditions to the utmost and she would not openly play favourites; she was not one to allow for her desires to get the better of her and cloud her judgements.

Hinahoho spoke quietly with this unnatural firmness in his tone: "My love for her stems from childhood, Pipirika. I will never stop fighting for her unless she herself commands me to."

"What are you blabbering on about?" was what a bemused Pipirika seemed like she wanted to ask, yet before she could open her mouth, the waves became wild around them; water was flung into the air, raining into the boat (with Sinbad getting the brunt of it and amusing both Emilia and Lërynia at the fact that his cowlick was still standing erect despite the rest of his drenched hair); a gargantuan tail briefly made itself known; pressure was felt beneath the boat and it was lifted a little into the air, splashing right back into the water many feet away. Radiant and blinding golden armour-like scales (well, extremely hard coral upon a closer inspection) were seen for a few seconds, as well as a draconic-looking head with a dangerous red horn resembling Hinahoho's drawing. Quickly, the rampaging unicorn disappeared a myriad of feet below the level of the surface, and the waters began to settle.

"It's toying with us again, I tell you!" Pipirika yelled in frustration.

"Oh my god, that was insane," Emilia drawled out with a blank yet wide-eyed face, and her heart was beating so very loudly into her eardrums. _Damned oceans are just crazy cesspools of death; I hate them!_

"That was beautiful!" an elated Sinbad exclaimed with sparkling eyes of ridiculous amounts of fascination. He could feel his heart pumping excitedly in tandem with his spirit as a fisherman. "Let me help you fight that thing!"

By the early evening, much navigating and rowing brought the group to a large, crescent moon-shaped island cluttered with overgrown vegetation and a plethora of healthy palm trees. The further inland one travelled, the higher the ground was elevated, and on the outer crescent of the island were mountainous, treacherous cliffs. They were here because, according to Hinahoho, this island was an extremely popular place where an innumerable amount of past warriors had completed their coming-of-age ceremonies. Leading their new companions through nature, the Imuchakks brought them to a small clearing with a decently-sized tent and an empty fire pit, and cluttered by said tent were empty barrels and large jars, cloths and canvases, thick rope and sturdy strings, large knives (a few looking more like swords rather than knives), as well as many other tools – all for the purpose of taking apart and storing the rampaging unicorn once slain.

Sinbad and Emilia plopped their travel bags by the tent while Hinahoho prepared firewood. There was much planning ahead of them in regards to the conquering of the rampaging unicorn; well, more so for the Imuchakks and an overly excited Parthevian. The girl and the faerie merely sat back and basked in the heat of the flames amidst this cold night.

.

* * *

.

Reattaching bait to the hook of his fishing rod, a happily-humming Sinbad flung the line back into the water with elegance and ease. Emilia – who had been gripping onto her fishing rod a little too tensely – stared with some enviousness into the boy's bucket of water, where three bright silver-scaled herring swam about. Her bucket was empty.

"Emiliaaa," he started in a singsong as he spared the girl a smug gander.

She faintly pouted with narrowed eyes. "What?"

"I thought you said that you were taught how to fish?"

 _He's enjoying this, isn't he?_ The girl huffed. "And like I had mentioned before you dragged me with you, I'm unable to catch anything. I don't know why – no matter what I do, no fish comes near my hook."

"Maybe they just don't like you?" floated his bold jest.

"Hilarious," she said tersely.

 _Avoiding fish, avoiding fish,_ a couple of Rukh peeped mischievously. _You suck, you suck._

The Otherworlder did a double-take in astonishment at her Rukh utilizing a bit of her modern Earth lingo. "Oh, shut up."

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Sinbad inquired with entertained brows raised.

"The Rukh, actually."

"You can see them, too?" Looking surprised for a second, the boy half-smiled. He knew what the Rukh were, courtesy of Yunan.

She nodded amicably. "Yes, I see them all the time. Can you?"

"Not all of the time, but I do see them a lot . . . And I can hear them chirp. Only like birds, though, but you can actually hear their voices speak human words? Amazing," he breathed out. "What do they say?"

"Useful things and annoying things," she uttered with a hint of a smirk.

"Useful things, huh?" Sinbad repeated, more so to himself. For a moment, he wondered if that was somehow similar to his inexplicable ability to read the waves of fate . . . "Oh! I caught a fourth one."

Emilia turned her face away while he pulled out yet another herring and plopped it into his bucket. She shifted in her position on the boat. "I hope we finish this soon; I want to return to the island."

"Why? The ocean is very tranquil, little cutie."

"It is this scary, revolting, ugly cesspool of infinite and horrendous deaths. I despise it."

He gazed upon her in the manner of someone witnessing a heinous blasphemy. "How could you say such a thing about something so beautiful?" he demanded with faux offence; trying desperately to hold back his laughter at her sudden unhinged and less-than-pleased countenance. "The ocean is so vast; filled with never-ending adventure and many mysteries beneath its' depths!" He held this tiny pout when he realized that his words had not moved her.

She merely rose a brow. "Well, I cannot deny that there might be some fascinating mysteries down there . . . But I'm not interested. _At all_. The ocean's an abysmal pit where anything and everything can kill you. No thanks."

"Can these kill you?" He gestured to his bucket of herring with a wide, overly confident smirk. Gentle, he submerged his hand into the bucket. "Awww, look at how menacing they are: Nibbling at my hand so ferociously, it tickles!"

A blushing Emilia could not help but burst out in fits of tittering. "Oh, you know very well what I mean, smart-ass!"

.

* * *

.

With a resounding crash wherein rendered Sinbad's little boat into pieces, most of the body of the rampaging unicorn fell upon the island. Losing all of its' luster, the golden armour-like coral was dulled and charred from a powerful pale blue-white strike of lightning. The rain and thundering ceased, and dark grey clouds slowly began to disperse, revealing the late-morning's sunlight. After two days of hanging around this island, the beast was finally slain.

Standing upon high ground, Sinbad nearly yelped as he lowered his right arm. "Whoa, what happened to my arm?! How did this happen? Emilia, when did my arm turn like this?" His scimitar looked like it had been altered and his arm was covered in rather stunning blue dragon scales.

As tempted as she was to laugh, the girl scrutinized his arm. "Oh no, Sinbad, don't worry! Nothing is wrong with your arm; it was bound to happen sometime, anyways," she reassured him with a smile and tucked some of her damp hair behind her right ear.

"Is that so? And why do you seem a little shocked?"

"Well, you had just captured Baal's Dungeon, right? And you've barely used his power thus far . . . I was only surprised that you were able to perform a Djinn weapon equip so soon." And then she felt a little silly for being surprised; after all, the Parthevian was a First-Class Singularity.

Her words quelled the boy and he smiled. "A 'weapon equip?'" he mused. "I did feel the Djinn's power coursing through me with a little more strength than before – is there more to this?"

She nodded. "The longer you have this power and the more you practice with it, you'll be able to utilize a full-body Djinn equip. As the name states, the Djinn's physical self will merge with yours, altering your appearance, and you'll be able to perform said Djinn's full power."

Before a thrilled Sinbad could open his mouth, Pipirika's giddy shriek pierced the air: "THAT WAS MARVELOUS!" she exclaimed as she barreled up towards them. "That was much more powerful than our shaman's back home! I've never seen magic like that –"

With a chuckle, the Otherworlder left the two interacting; lackadaisically sauntering down to where an eerily quiet and reticent Hinahoho stood with Lërynia healing his bruises and cuts with her faerie dust and giant leaves. Stopping by the rampaging unicorn's gaping mouth, the girl's pupils trailed along the charred cadaver. From what she was told, this beast's meat was apparently the best source for protein and that it was perfect for preserving for lengthy storage time; ideal food for someone who was on an uninhabitable island or was travelling across the ocean for a while. Its' fat was enough to extract ten or more large barrels of oil, which was pretty useful for many things such as cooking and fuel; it's hair and skin could be crafted into clothing, rugs and rope; and it's bones and fangs could be utilized for making weapons or tools, as well as building boats. Withal, the distinctive red horn was given to warriors as their signature weapon.

She sighed. These next few days were going to be extremely busy for the lot of them.

.

* * *

.

 _"Brother, you're hopeless! Don't give into your fear; just slay one already!"_

 _"Did that child fail again? He needs to toughen up."_

 _"Tsk, poor boy. How long will this take?"_

 _"He is the son of our leader – does he not realize that his ceremony is the most important one out of everyone from our village?"_

 _"My son, please, you must complete this ritual."_

 _"So, our future Patriarch isn't going to be a warrior or a true man? All of the other villages will mock us, now."_

 _"I'm sorry, I cannot be courted by someone who is not a warrior. It is merely the way of our people. Please accept my sincerest apologies."_

The Imuchakk man growled lowly and stood up from the rock; the voices floating within his mind slowly lulling away to silence. His yellow-golden eyes tentatively swept over the black waters of the late night before he turned and meandered his way through the trees and shrubbery, his legs almost feeling like they had morphed into stone.

He ought to be elated and proud yet he held very uncertain and mixed feelings. With the slaying of the rampaging unicorn, he was now fully a man. Everyone in his village would acknowledge him and his father would wholeheartedly approve of him. No one would mock or tease him anymore . . . Only, he was not the one who had dealt with the killing blow on that aquatic beast. It was Sinbad's lightning, the power of his Djinn from which he had captured inside of a Dungeon, from what the boy had recounted to him and his sister the other day. And Sinbad was fine with this? Was he really alright with pretending that his lightning magic had not been strong enough to kill and that it had hit the creature after it was dead?

The incredulous man could not simply accept that his sister was alright with that, as well. Or did she even know? Everything that had occurred during that bit of time passed by so very rapidly, and the rain had obscured their vision for a couple of moments here and there. Did Pipirika think that Sinbad's lightning strike had merely stalled the creature and that, because of it, her brother was the one who had conquered it with his harpoon? Judging by the way she behaved, that was most likely the case.

He hated that another person had vanquished what he was supposed to have defeated; he loathed that he was taking credit from someone else's victory; but most of all, he despised himself for being willing to go along with it, for being willing to keep the truth of this a secret. Upon all of the things that were considered good within this world, he just simply could not bring himself to expose the truth and be victim to the Imuchakks' contempt once more. As an honest young man, this truth was killing him. He cursed his exasperating desperation.

The golden glow of the warm fire met his face. Everyone seemed to be tucked inside of the tent, well, almost everyone. Carefully, he moved his legs until he reached Emilia's side, to which he eased himself upon the ground. "You like art as well, I see," he observed; pleasantly surprised.

Sitting atop a large grey rock, Emilia's sketchbook laid open across her lap, and she twirled her stick of lead between the fingers of her right hand. Her face, when she turned to look at him, was very relaxed as she held a small smile. "Yes, very much so."

Blinking, his pupils trailed all over an image of a short-haired, warrior-looking man with scars and strange symbols covering his face and torso, accompanied with eyes that knew all of the world's sorrows and joys. "That looks great."

"Thank you . . ." she said quietly before turning her head again. "Are you feeling well? You disappeared for a while after dinner."

"Ah . . . Yes, I'm alright," the Imuchakk lied calmly. "I only needed some time to myself."

"Fair enough." Flipping over to a blank page, she rested her lead in the centre of the book and held it aloft to her left. "Here."

"What?" He blinked rather dumbly at her gesture. The fire crackled.

"There's no need to hide it." Turning again, Emilia smiled pleasantly. "You looked like you wanted to draw, there."

Almost laughing, he settled for a tiny smile; and he graciously took her sketchbook and absentmindedly had his large hand dance upon the page, forming an image of a gorgeous young woman with hair of such profound, perfect waves akin to that of the ocean's . . .

.

* * *

.

The early morning sun was nearly blinding.

Splashing water on her face, Emilia turned around to find a grinning Pipirika standing a little too close to her. "Let's go for a swim before we continue with our work!" the Imuchakk suggested. Today, the giant siblings were going to teach Emilia and Sinbad how to build boats using the rampaging unicorn's bones.

Feeling a part of herself figuratively dying, the Otherworlder stared blankly at her. "No thanks. I'd rather start work right now."

"Whyyyyyyy?"

"Because I'm not a very good swimmer."

"All the more reason to continue learning!"

The girl grumbled and her cheeks felt hot. Absent any warning, Lërynia shot out from the waters behind her. "Ne, it's so pretty down there and I saw lots of fishies and sea plants and all of that stuff!"

Emilia gaped. "Are you insane?!"

"NO! Pipirika, have her come in! It's so nice in there." Droplets of water fell from the faerie and onto Emilia's cheek.

Suddenly, Sinbad's impish voice pierced the airs to her left. "Come on, Emilia, it's only water."

The girl shot a glower at his smirking visage. "Go away!"

Pouting for a second, Pipirika gripped the girl's shoulders with newfound encouragement. "Yes, I heard that you were scared of the ocean, but you'll feel a little better once you improve upon your swimming. At least, by then, you'll have the confidence for when something bad happens."

Emilia avoided her gaze. _She does have a point . . ._

"We can stay right by this island, here." Promptly, Pipirika stood proud and puffed out her chest. "Trust me – there is no better swimmer in the world than an Imuchakk! I'll be more than happy to help."

Pupils glued into the water with overflowing aversion, she reluctantly ceded. "Fine! Fine, I'll swim with you," she forced out with a sigh and a queasy stomach. _Anything to have you stop pestering me about it._ Immediately, she stripped off her clothes until only her undergarments and tunic remained, and she caught Sinbad discreetly ogling her for the briefest of seconds before Hinahoho claimed his attention by grabbing the boy's face and turning him around.

"Let's go," she said with zero enthusiasm after hanging her belts and pants along the bushes and leaning her boots by one of the many grey rocks.

Tilting her head to the side, Pipirika pointed to the other's neck. "Aren't you taking that choker off as well?"

"Well . . . I mean, I usually do when sleeping or bathing –"

"I've never seen you take it off!" Lërynia chimed suspiciously.

"Because I only do it when I'm alone. Pipirika!" Emilia turned towards her. "I humbly place myself in your hands."

Pipirika smiled victoriously. "Hehe, very well, Emi! Can I call you 'Emi?'"

"Only if I can call you 'Rika.'"

.

* * *

.

"Ne, Emi, let's go!" Lërynia exclaimed with puffed-up cheeks as she fluttered around a palm tree. After a week of spending time on this island and tending to the preparation of the rampaging unicorn, the group was finally ready to leave.

Shoving her just recently washed-and-dried purple tunic inside of her travel bag, Emilia slung it across her torso and quickly adjusted the sleeves on her formfitting dark blue tunic. "Right behind you!" Jogging, she made her way to open land where Pipirika and her brother finished packing the last of their items and rampaging unicorn meat into their boats. Sinbad emerged from the bushes a minute later with his travel bag in hand.

"You're coming with us, right?" a peppy Pipirika queried.

The Parthevian smiled brightly. "Yes! I've this desire to see the entire world and learn everything about it."

With a friendly look upon her face, the Otherworlder procured a nod. "Same. I'd love to see a place that I've never been to before."

The Imuchakk girl's golden brown eyes gleamed in satisfaction. "I'm happy to hear that! Father will surely welcome you."

Sinbad cocked his head to the side in inkling. "Is your father the king of your nation?"

"Not a king, per se," Hinahoho spoke up. "He is Patriarch of our village. Imuchakk's more like a federation with five clans, each ruled by a patriarch."

"Although, I guess you can consider the National Chief as somewhat of a 'king,'" Pipirika continued. "He lives in the National Capital and presides over the patriarchs. But enough talk; let's go home!"

…

"Hey, that child returned!"

Docking at the harbour belonging to Hinahoho's large village, the Imuchakk siblings led Sinbad, Emilia and Lërynia down the pier and towards snowy lands. The wintry breeze wafted through the group's hair and flakes of snow fluttered all over.

"Ne, what's this white stuff?" Lërynia queried from her position atop Emilia's head; poking at a couple of snowflakes.

The Otherworlder smiled. "That's snow!" She had to admit to herself that she missed this sort of weather after spending quite the number of months in lands where heat had reigned supreme. A backdrop of snowy mountains fell around the village; the simplistic and big homes of said settlement were made of well-carved and sturdy wood with thatched, upturned roofs, and they were decorated with the thick, curved and smooth white bones of giant aquatic creatures.

"Welcome back! Congratulations!"

"You _finally_ did it!"

A crowd of beaming, relieved and proud Imuchakks had already gathered by the gateway to the harbour, their giant and well-built bodies obscuring the road into the village. Everyone was either barefooted, or had worn brown sandals with straps wherein trailed up to their shins, and their white fur-trimmed blue-and-white clothing was sewn up in a fashion that seemed more appropriate for a land with warmer weather than the frozen Extreme North (Emilia then recalled that Pipirika explained how the Imuchakks' bodies were very well-adapted to these frigid and winter-like environments. Subsequently, hot weather was an irritating weakness). Their eyes were of orange, yellow, honey or brown, all touched with gold; and everyone's thick hair ranged from the darker shades of blue to the lighter shades.

While a number of villagers trotted up to a quiet Hinahoho and offered him their most heartfelt felicitations, the foreigner trio greedily drank all of the sights in with their pupils; Sinbad, especially, was sparkly-eyed and just overbearingly ecstatic. Emilia found that cute. With reddened cheeks, he sneezed and hugged himself. "Damn, it's so cold! I never would have expected this."

A giant older man with scars and a somewhat long, neatly-trimmed mustache emerged from the crowd; his rather fine clothes befitting for one who was the leader of this settlement. "Ah, my precious children, it warms my heart to see you return," the Village Patriarch began. "And my son has now attained his manhood! As a father and as Patriarch to this village, I am delighted to know of your victory."

Pipirika ecstatically ran into the man's arms. Trying his hardest to meet his father's content gaze, Hinahoho was uncomfortably tense. "Thank you . . . Father," he managed to force out in an amiable tone.

"Planning for the feast for one of the Patriarch's family tends to be more involved and formal, but everyone is too excited to stall for much longer. Come! Let us now prepare the Mahrajan!" the venerable man commanded with encouragement and the people cheered.

Whilst preparations for the feast began, Pipirika was succinctly explaining what the Mahrajan Festival represented as Hinahoho gestured that they follow their father back to their abode. On their way, a few nice villagers gifted Sinbad with some warm, fur-trimmed blue-and-white clothes with a hood and a pair of tall boots that were lined with fur on the inside, to which the boy graciously thanked them and inwardly revelled at how soft the fur was. Because Emilia was more so dressed for this type of weather, she was only given a blue cloak lined with white fur and a spacious hood, and it trailed down to her ankles.

Upon settling themselves around a fire in the midst of the patriarch's home – by then, Emilia realized that Hinahoho also had two little brothers rather than only one sister – the young man formally introduced the foreigners, to which his father took a keen liking to Sinbad as soon Pipirika blurted out that he was a Dungeon Conqueror. It was then that after the Parthevian explained what that type of tower was (as well as unsheathing his sword for a moment to display proof of the eight-pointed star of the Djinn), the impressed patriarch revealed that a mysterious building akin to the boy's description had apparently appeared one random morning somewhat close by to the village a few days prior. The warriors that were sent to investigate never returned, and the older man heeded Sinbad's warning not to send anyone else and to leave that Dungeon alone.

However, Emilia inwardly noted the look of deep thought that was swimming about Hinahoho's face . . .

The sun had only just set once the festival's preparations were completed, and fire pits burned everywhere. Breaths morphed into wisps of mist in the early night as Imuchakks settled upon blankets ladened with food and drink atop the snowy ground. Many of the people opted to stand for the time being; gripping onto horns of alcohol. Emilia, Sinbad and Lërynia sat with Pipirika and her family.

Owning a thick, bushy beard, a village elder in long white robes stood in the centre of a tall and wooden stage and, almost immediately, he was joined by a stiff yet determined Hinahoho, who held his red rampaging unicorn horn. Formally speaking words of honour, the elder presented the young man with the slightly more intricate and brand new garb of the male Imuchakk warrior, as well as an indigo blue turban wherein owned a simple pattern of squares that were lined in slim white and accompanied with a white line passing through the centre of them all around the band; the "form of Imuchakk spirit," according to the elder. Hinahoho was then officially named 'Hinahoho,' his name meaning "clean like the ocean."

Raising their cups, the villagers cheered: "To the birth of a new warrior and to the great blessings of the ocean!"

During the night, much food was gobbled up; much drink was consumed; laughter, conversation and music was heard resonating throughout the vicinity, and Emilia realized Hinahoho's extreme lack of enthusiasm that was masked by a surprisingly serene smile whenever someone approached him. _Taking credit for someone else's victory and not being able to voice the truth on the matter for fear of returning to those days of disdain and severe disappointment . . . Yeah, it's definitely killing him on the inside._

Previously dancing with a number of children, Sinbad was now unsurprisingly flirting with a couple of Imuchakk girls. Frantically zooming away from a curious baby's grabbing hands, Lërynia, with a sigh of relief, caught the attentions of the village's calm shamans. And thanks to the plethora of innocent interferences from Pipirika and her little brothers, Emilia failed in her multiple endeavours to get her hands on at least one cup of alcohol.

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D Ever since I found out about Hinahoho's awesomeness at art, I've been very much wanting to have him and Emilia become art buddies. So, I can't wait to further develop that later on, hehehe~ =3 ***

*** After Note II – If you have been following this story sometime before this chapter was uploaded and notice that I had altered the main genre tags from **Adventure/Romance** to **Adventure/Fantasy** , don't worry. I am not scrapping the romance for later on. I only changed the genre tags because, looking over this story, it just feels more fitting – also because although I previously mentioned that the SinbadXOC romance will be a slow-burn, I didn't realize until somewhat recently that, due to a couple of reasons, said romance will be a little more slow-burn than what is usually considered to be a slow-burn. Let's just call it a 'snail-burn,' then? xDDD ***

…

 **Bunnyxstar:** Aww, glad to hear that! Thank you very much, and I hope you have a great week~ =D

 **Guestt:** Happy to hear! And yeah, hehe, I absolutely **adore** Yunan, so it was fun fleshing out his character a little more~ Thanks very much and have a great week! :D

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	9. Fate's Compass

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those reading, favouring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

*** Note III – This chapter's title is borrowed from an original soundtrack piece by Audiomachine. Though the actual music itself is a little too epic for this sort of chapter, I found the title, 'Fate's Compass,' to be very fitting for its' contents. =3 ***

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 **~ 008 – Fate's Compass ~**

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"We're all puppets. I'm just a puppet who can see the strings."

~ Doctor Manhattan

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From her perching atop the stairs of the patriarch's abode, Emilia's eyes swept over the vast snowy yard and the fence and gate of pristine white bone surrounding the property. Flames illuminated the snow amidst the early night sky. It was now into the fifth day of June, which meant that Emilia had thus far been gallivanting in this world for five months and five days; five long, eventful months wherein felt as though she had been here for much longer. Today had also been a bit of an eventful day as most of the morning and afternoon were spent with her, Sinbad and Lërynia being given a tour of the entire Imuchakk settlement by Hinahoho and Pipirika. Not long after that, Emilia was somehow roped into the presence of a group of ten young children, who wanted her to tell them a story to satiate their curiosity on what stories were like beyond the borders of Imuchakk's lands. To her own amusement, the girl had settled with regaling the tale of _Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves_. It was a rather appropriate story to share considering this world, after all.

"Emilia!" Boots softy crunching in the snow, Sinbad emerged from the gate with a satisfied grin and light red cheeks from the cold air.

She adjusted the hood from her cloak to see him proper. "Oh, you were exploring the village again just now?"

"I was!" Clearly, the boy was in an ecstatic mood. Jogging up the stairs, he sat a few centimetres by her side on the porch. "I can't get enough of it: The people are a merry bunch; this place is just so effortlessly tranquil; everyone gets along so well in a sense that there are no worries about going to war or those in higher positions betraying the peoples' trust or sense of security . . ." Voice trailing into silence, his smile barely became noticeable.

Holding a small smile, the girl's eyes softened while she watched him. "You're not used to something like this, aren't you, Sinbad?"

His response was a mere gander upon the snow, accompanied by an expression of intense pondering. "You said that you aim to rebuild your life into a better one than the one you had before you were banished from your country, right?" he inquired after a long and silent minute; turning to her once more. "Where do you plan on going?"

Blinking at this sudden change in topic, the girl held this half-sheepish smile. "Well . . . Actually, I haven't really made any detailed, concrete plans about that. However, I do know that I want to go to Reim because, according to Yunan, it's currently at the top of the world with regards to military, technology and economic status, and so it'll give me ample opportunity to start over." Not to mention that it was under the protection of a Magi. "And then once I've got myself sorted out, I'd love to explore the world for a bit. Why the sudden question?"

"Because I aim to do the same thing, only . . . I have a larger goal." The manner of which he was now staring at her abruptly became so bold, so confident. "One so big that I definitely need help with turning it into a reality. And seeing that you no longer have a home, like me, I wonder if you'd like to join me?"

 _Ah . . ._ Knowing what was about to come next, she inclined her head to the side in faux confusion. "Do tell me this goal of yours," she encouraged.

Shifting his body to fully face her, he leant his back against the cold, wooden railing. "To change the world. Right its' wrongs; to create a happier world without suffering or corruption. Actually, this has been a dream of mine for a while, but I couldn't act on anything nor did I have a clear path on how to make this happen until Yunan invited me to capture Baal's Dungeon – and it wasn't until we came to Imuchakk and experienced their way of life that my ambitions completely solidified. I aim to create a country to change the world and to become the king of it; a country that connects all others and to bring about a world where all kingdoms and people of different backgrounds are willing to get along and help each other. That way, there'll be no need for things like war."

"Saying something like that so easily – such a naïve little idealist you are," was what Emilia would have admittedly blurted out if she had known nothing of this person, if she had not at all indulged herself with the world of _Magi_ back on Earth. But she did, and so she kept the comment hidden within the deep crevices of her mind. She procured a wide and innocent smile after letting out a light and airy sigh. "Ah, well, doesn't that sound like quite the challenge?"

Sinbad met her expression with a brief chuckle. "Which is why I'm in need of the assistance of different types of people with many skills! And I plan to overcome every obstacle that crosses my path."

"I see." Though her face remained pleasant, her gaze turned firm and daring. "I do wonder if you've considered this, Sinbad: The negatives of the world are, unfortunately, intrinsic to humanity, thus eradicating all wrongs is almost like eradicating humanity itself. So, do you really know what you're doing?" Emilia almost felt bad for uttering that due to Sinbad's visage suddenly morphing into stark shock mixed with this frustrating and desperate anguish swimming within those expressive eyes of his.

"I know. I realize this." He had to admit that he had not at all expected for her to say something as insanely cynical and _real_ as that, but for some odd reason, he liked that she did question him in that regard. "But with the way I've envisioned this, that drastic outcome won't happen. _It won't_ ," he emphasized with ardour, more so to himself like some sort of reminder to not lose himself. A near-quiet sigh escaped his mouth and, relaxing his body, he smiled with a fresh wave of determination washing over his being. "Besides, most people strive to do good, anyway. Helping others is much easier to do than fighting against each other."

Smirking, the Otherworlder shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess that's true."

"And I do agree: Eradicating all negativity is sadly not possible, but what is possible is for everyone – especially those in power – to get along so that there won't have to be conflicts. Of course, I don't expect this to happen so quickly. It will take time, effort and many other things, but I will endeavour to see my ambition come true."

"Challenging what people deem 'the unattainable' . . . I don't know; there's something about that which I like," she murmured candidly with both uncertainty and peculiar eagerness.

He smirked; evidently pleased with her straightforwardness despite her seeming mixed feelings that he had sensed from her throughout the conversation. "What say you, little cutie?" he added cheekily.

Mulling over this discussion, Emilia recalled the manga once again and, more specifically, what had happened after that three-year time-skip during the final stage. _I'm almost afraid – turning into this god-complexed idiot and brainwashing the entirety of humanity to commit suicide in this "Become one with Rukh" bullshit? Good lord, I_ _ **really**_ _don't want to deal with that! And it really wasn't fair that many people had lost their lives because of it. Although . . . It didn't necessarily help that Arba was hanging around him, nor at the fact that David had resonated with his black Rukh and would have somehow been influencing him to a certain extent, from what I'm trying to remember. And then his desperation was building up and he took this destiny fuckery a little too seriously . . . Hmmm._

Fluffy white flakes proceeded to fall from the night sky; gentle, wispy, and few in number. Tired and a little stressed, the girl pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright. I'll join you and help out."

Naturally, Emilia had her own reasons for accepting Sinbad's offer: Seeing as he was going to venture into entrepreneurship with his upcoming plans for a trading company, that would indeed be a fabulous opportunity for the girl to build up her way of life in this world. Business, finance and accounting, especially accounting – these were things wherein she held tangible experience in; these were subjects from which she had spent _years_ in school focusing on and studying into depth with, and she would be absolutely damned if she did not take advantage of this opportunity to not only put her career-related skills into great use, but to also build upon them further and grow into more of a professional. Then having a consistent workplace, she would be able to achieve some semblance of her past life with working for Sinbad; she would have a proper place to live and full, well-balanced meals; she need not worry about the lack of a steady flow of income, and she would no longer have to rely on Yunan to the same extent as she had done so when she first came into this world. Joining the young Parthevian's company would also offer her a certain level of protection as well as a plethora of amazing resources, especially when said company will grow over the years. Withal, adventuring to various countries would be a more straightforward process when under the banner of a reputable company. . . Not to mention that the process in searching for Tio's missing son might just become a little easier for her to do.

Upon her answer, Sinbad's face lit up. "I half-expected you to reject my offer, but I'm happy to hear otherwise." He then sniggered in amusement. "But you look so annoyed! What's wrong?"

"Ha, no, I'm just sleepy." She stood up with a yawn. "I was just thinking about things . . ."

He followed suit with a mirthful smirk. "Anything worrisome?"

"No, not really. Anyhow, considering that I've officially joined you, it's only fair that I tell you this now rather than waiting it out." Flinging back the hood from her head, Emilia brought her hand over her shoulder to grip the hilt of her elven-like sword, pulling it free in one fluid motion before hovering the centre of the flat of the obsidian black blade at Sinbad's eye-level. "I am also a Dungeon Conqueror."

"Huh?" Mouth hanging ajar on a blank face, the boy scrutinized the eight-pointed star that was etched into the metal of her weapon. "Wait, what?!" he shouted.

It was then that Baal's star glowed softly, to which Sinbad came to the realization that all of the previous times wherein his Djinn's star mysteriously glowed was because said blue being had sensed the presence of another fellow Djinn. The boy shook his head incredulously whilst the girl's Djinn's star proceeded to glow as a greeting to Baal. "You were a Dungeon Conqueror this whole time?! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" he demanded with this weirdly impressed feeling.

Finding his reaction kind of cute, Emilia tittered. "And why would I reveal such an important secret so easily to people I didn't know that well at the time?"

"What's wrong, you two? I heard shouting!" Pipirika hollered after opening the front door of her father's house and stepping foot outside.

 _Jeez, thank you, Sinbad._ Emilia had to supress an eye-roll.

"Emilia's a Dungeon Conqueror as well!" Sinbad said; clearly, his brain was still trying to process the fact that he was no longer the only person in the entire world who captured a Dungeon and wielded the power of a Djinn.

Hinahoho's head poked out from the left side of the doorway, and his brows were raised in silent astonishment. "You too, huh?" He seemed to be contemplating something . . .

"When was this?" a sparkly-eyed Pipirika shoved her face in front of the girl's.

Emilia recoiled her head back slightly. "Oh! Uh, shortly after Sinbad conquered Baal."

The boy's thick eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "That is weirdly specific."

"I mentioned that I lived with Yunan, remember? He tells me things that happen when he's off travelling."

"Who's Yunan?" the Imuchakk siblings queried in sync.

"YUNAN IS A MEANIE!" came Lërynia's screech from deep inside of the house.

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Warming sunlight of a new morning shone on fresh blankets of snow, perceiving the sparkling whites as countless diamonds embedded into ivory fluff.

Emilia woke in the comfort of warm and thick white blankets upon a giant bedding of fur within the bedroom in which Hinahoho shared with all of his siblings (and temporarily Emilia, Lërynia and Sinbad by invitation of his father and sister). Tufts of pretty bright blue hair obscured most of her vision as Hinahoho's slumbering little brothers were cuddled against her chest. Rapidly blinking thrice, she carefully rose her torso and gently ran a hand through her hair.

 _Good morning, Emi; good morning, Emi,_ the Rukh chirruped. _No more danger; no more danger._

"And what do you mean by that?" she murmured with pursed lips.

Crawling out from under the covers, Lërynia lightly rubbed at her eyes. "Ne, that was a really good sleep . . . Oh yeah, Sinbad talked to me last night after you fell asleep about the conversation you two had."

"You did?" And then she gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry! I made the decision to join him before talking to you about it."

Silvery eyes gleaming, the faerie shook her head with a wide grin. "No, it's fine! It sounds like a lot of fun. Don't worry about asking me about your decisions; I'm the one who decided to follow you around without asking, and I'm only here to see the world beyond the Great Rift."

"But how can you know for sure, Sinbad?" Pipirika's worried voice trailed into the bedroom from beyond the threshold of the doorway.

"I just do. It is hard to explain, but I know for a fact that I won't be dying in a place like this."

The duo sauntered into the room, to which Emilia saluted them with an innocently girlish smile. "Morning!"

"I can't believe you!" the Imuchakk girl fired with her hands planted at her hips, and the little twin boys stirred in their sleep.

The Otherworlder vaguely tilted her head. "Eh, what do you mean?"

"Sinbad was attacked by an assassin from his home country in this very room! He's gone now, but Hinahoho and I were also thrown into the fray. The fact that you and the faerie and my little brothers stayed fast asleep throughout all of that is very confusing."

Tempted to laugh, Emilia merely blinked whilst her mind trailed towards a young ten-year-old Ja'far for a second. "Oh wow, yeah, Lërynia, how did we even sleep through all of that?" she queried airily with a cavalier shrug.

The faerie giggled cheekily. "Ne, but we didn't get hurt or anything, so does it really matter?"

Shaking her head incredulously with closed eyes, Pipirika sighed in irritancy. "Unbelievable. Come on, little brothers!" She kneeled atop the blankets and shook the boys. "You have your schooling."

"But, but, I don't want to!" the groggy older twin groused.

The younger twin stuck out his tongue in disgust. "I want Emi to tell us another story . . ."

"She will after you're done for the day. Let's go!" And Pipirika scooped her reluctant brothers into her arms and carried them out of the room.

"Ne, I smell some good food." Lërynia fluttered after the Imuchakks.

"Don't eat everything!" Emilia warned.

"I won't!"

A humoured Sinbad moved over the blankets. "So, Emilia –"

"No." She narrowed her eyes. "Sinbad, the answer is still 'no'; absolutely, positively no."

"Aw . . ." Pouting, he squatted before her. "But I told you the tale of my Dungeon-conquering adventure. It's only fair that you tell me yours."

She rose an unimpressed brow. "Oh, please, you'd have somehow weeded that into a conversation even if you weren't asked about it. And anyways, you actually loved the whole escapade of capturing Baal's tower."

"And you didn't with your Djinn?"

She did not answer. He held neither smile nor frown, and he was disbelieved at the fact that a person had not felt the overwhelming joy of exploring a mysterious and magical tower like he had. "May I at least know his name? Or is your Djinn a beautiful lady?"

Emilia half-smirked. "Mephistopheles, but he prefers being called 'Mephisto.' He is from the Unnumbered Dungeon."

Intrigued, Sinbad cocked his head to the side. "'Unnumbered?'"

She shrugged. "According to Yunan, each Dungeon has a number. There are only supposed to be seventy-two of them, one Djinn reigning supreme in each of them; but apparently, there's a 'secret' seventy-third with mine."

"Is that so?" Sitting on the bedding, he seemed to be studying her. "You looked a little sad just now."

Not realizing this, she turned her face slightly. "Really? It's nothing. I was thinking about our discussion last night."

"You're not changing your mind about joining me, are you?" he asked; alarmed.

"No, it's not that," she clarified amiably. "I was pondering over your grand ambition and, well, it sounds like it'll be lonely for you."

"What do you mean?" Bamboozled and caught off of his guard with her comment, Sinbad shook his head. "I'll be making many friends, comrades and allies as we turn my plans into a reality – surrounded by people! I won't be lonely."

 _That's not necessarily the type of loneliness I was referring to._ A weak and near-silent laugh flew out of her mouth, and she managed a small and calm smile. "Fine, whatever you say," she faked conceding. "Now could you please get out? I need to change."

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 _Hmmm, was the horn at its' forehead, or was it a little further down its' muzzle?_ Contemplating intensely at her drawing of the rampaging unicorn, Emilia bit her lip and twirled the stick of lead between her fingers.

The morning's sun was abruptly blocked out for a couple of moments, and a curious, faintly smiling Hinahoho trudged up the steps of his house. "I believe the horn should be at its' forehead, right between the eyes."

"Well, thank you!" she expressed pleasantly.

"No problem." He sat by her side. "Where is everyone else?"

"Your brothers are already at the village school; your father said something about attending a meeting with the village elders, and Pipirika, Sinbad and Lërynia are still at the marketplace."

The man was silent for the longest five seconds ever. "You didn't want to join them?"

"Ah, no, not this time. I just wanted to be alone; I need to be alone sometimes," she responded with a smile; albeit, she did feel a little defensive. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, of course not! I'm the same way and I do understand your need for solitude."

"Speaking of which –" She closed her sketchbook. "– I haven't seen you at all until now. Is something wrong?"

Holding a composed visage, the young man shook his head. "N-not wrong, per se . . . I was deeply contemplating something, and I've just decided that I will do it." Determination gleaming in his eyes, he stood whilst pulling out what looked be a letter and ran inside.

With a blank face, Emilia watched him disappear. Was he about to run at full speed towards the Sixth Dungeon, Valefor right now? As soon as she stood upon the porch, Hinahoho made himself known once again; only, his hair had covered his eyes due to his turban being taken off, and his grip around his red rampaging unicorn horn was taut and unwavering. Dropping her sketchbook inside of the house, she scampered after him; her warm cloak lapping at her heels.

Hinahoho ceased his movements once they reached the outskirts of his village. "Sinbad was the one who had defeated that creature. I pretended not to care at first because I couldn't bear to return to my prior life of being at the contempt of others, yet I find that I will be unable to live with myself knowing that my ceremony is undoubtedly a false claim. Conquering this Dungeon myself will give me the opportunity to regain my honour and to truly become a warrior and real man of the Imuchakk Tribe. It's all in a letter that I've left for my father. Emilia, I don't care that you have the power of a Djinn at your disposal – I will go to the Dungeon no matter what and I won't let you stop me," he uttered in a low and dangerously firm tone.

Feigning offense, the girl happily smiled as a sudden feeling of pride for the man swelled within her. "Hinahoho, I have no intention on doing that! Rather, I just want to join you on the journey there."

Relief, so abrupt in this chilly late-morning air, washed over him. Glancing upon her with surprise and gratitude at her understanding, Hinahoho's lips turned upwards. "Thank you."

Emilia jogged after him as he moved quickly along the white earth and in between massive hills. The thick, high snow was no match for his effortless running, and it was easily shoved aside with his movements. Taking advantage of the cleared path, she ran right behind him, yet found that her legs were no match for his longer and more powerful ones. She would have eventually lost him except for the fact that he had spun around absent warning and, jogging back towards her, lifted her up in his strong left arm. "I hope you don't mind? It will be faster this way," he said; barely breaking a sweat.

Time flew as Hinahoho sprinted non-stop. The land seemed like it was getting higher; their ears discerned the hum of a massive waterfall; the Rukh chirped about the Dungeon being close by, and the Imuchakk skidded to a halt when he reached a massive cliff. Emilia bore witness to the wintry, white-and-blue simple yet picturesque sight below them: A waterfall snuggly hugged around the sides and back of a tiny, snow-filled island, the water sparkling akin to the shiniest of crystals; and laying obnoxiously atop said island were a collection of four white buildings that were touched with the palest of blues, their architecture being very Greek-like. It was the complete opposite of the rather fancy and gargantuan towers that were owned by Mephisto and Baal.

It felt like a thousand millipedes were crawling through every crevice of the insides of Emilia's body. The very sight of another Dungeon filled her with overwhelming revulsion and she desired to use Mephisto's power to try and destroy that structure –

"Emilia, you're very tense," the Imuchakk's voice sounded.

Blinking twice, this eerie sense of calm renewed her mind, and she relaxed her grip around his shoulders, her fingernails no longer uncontrollably digging into the man's skin. "Oh . . . Oh my gosh, I'm sorry about that!"

"It's fine. I didn't feel it at all." Holding a friendly face, he turned to his left and half-slid, half-jogged down the hill into a little slip of a path in between a long myriad of massive, cliff-like hills.

The girl bit her lip. "Say, Hina I wonder if you've the right mindset for this Dungeon-capturing business?"

Half-confused, he regarded her for a second. "What do you mean?"

"These places test who you are as person and whether or not you'll actually be able to survive, not how strong of a physical fighter someone is."

"Yes, I . . . I got that impression after finding out that you've captured a Djinn. You and Sinbad aren't warriors and you're mostly still children, but you've managed to succeed in this endeavour. I have good reasons for entering this Dungeon – I think I'll be able to win it."

Hinahoho lowered Emilia to her feet when they reached a slender bridge that stretched across the water, and she lackadaisically followed him to the largest of the four buildings, where a white glow was emitting. Still feeling sick and sneering at Valefor's entrance, she leant her right side against one of the outer pillars as he continued forwards. "Well, may the odds be ever in your favour," she quoted casually.

"Thank you– wait." The man spun around with half-widened eyes. "You aren't coming in with me?"

Smiling joylessly, she loosely crossed her arms. To be honest, the main reason why she had decided to follow Hinahoho was because, from what she could recall from the anime, Yunan had made a quick appearance right by this Dungeon. She really wanted to see Yunan again. "No, I don't see why I'd have to enter in one of those things again. I will not be of much help, anyways. You'll do just fine."

Silently nodding in understanding, an adamant and sweating Hinahoho disappeared through the white glow of the labyrinth's entrance.

 _Emi is sad; Emi is sad,_ a few Rukh peeped and landed in her hair. _Don't be, don't be!_

Her eyes languidly swept the area for Yunan, and the following thirty minutes felt like an odious and uncomfortable eternity. Panting and the harsh crunching of snow suddenly assaulted her ears, along with Sinbad's voice calling out her name. Barely turning herself, he reached her side and took in a deep, relaxing breath. "Hinahoho already went in," he concluded aloud and with some worry. "You didn't want to join him?"

 _Fuck no._ Procuring a half-nervous smile Emilia dispassionately shrugged. "No, I'm allergic to Dungeons."

The boy chuckled. "What? You weird girl."

"I mean, being concerned for Hinahoho and not wanting to miss out on another adventure, I knew you were going to follow us. So, I didn't see the point in me offering my assistance with my Djinn's power knowing that you'd for sure be going in."

He smirked lightheartedly. "True, but are you really that alright with missing out on another fun journey? Aren't you curious about how different this Dungeon is compared to Mephisto's?"

"No," she said flatly; her queasiness growing. "All Dungeons are the same: Dangerous."

"Yes, but . . . You have a Djinn. You have the protection, and I'll be there too. For sure the two of us won't be in any real danger. Admittedly, though, Baal's Dungeon was surprisingly easy for me."

Annoyance began to grow within her. "Thank you but I'm f-fine. I'll just return to the village and wait for you two to come back."

"And where's the fun in that?" Sinbad smiled stubbornly and, snatching her wrist, he started towards the white glow. "Come on!"

"Let go!"

"I'm sure Hina will be thrilled to have two experienced individuals helping him out."

"Sinbad, _please_ –"

"It'll just be a fascinating, fun breeze for u–"

"Well, lucky for you that Baal's fun experience wasn't a traumatic murder-fest!" Emilia yelled lividly.

 _That_ had finally caught his attention.

"I told you that I won't be going inside that damn thing, so why are you ignoring my stance, here?!" She managed to twist her wrist free from his grasp. "I never even wanted Mephisto, but my circumstances forced me to capture him. But after that? I've absolutely no intention on setting one foot inside another one of those fucking disgusting, accursed and ugly cesspools of death and false hope! I can't even stand the sight of one, so why did I even follow Hina here? I must be insane!" She let out a brief and harsh laugh. "To hell with all of it!"

Disquieted and shocked, Sinbad frowned when he softly scrutinized her anguished face, her eyes filled with such anger and unbridled fear – a look he had never seen on her before. She had taken a step back and turned her body to the side, but her face she had lowered and turned completely away from him. Her uttering a "No" to swimming and then reluctantly agreeing to Pipirika's instructions was one thing, but this was utterly different. Adventure was one of the Parthevian's long-time and greatest loves and so he was unable to fully understand why someone would not be interested in it; he merely assumed that Emilia's prior disinterest in anything related to Dungeons was nothing serious, and he did not like the feeling of excluding a friend in these otherworldly escapades. Clearly, however, her vision on a Dungeon was the complete opposite of his due to their varying experiences, and his elation blinded him from fully paying attention to her. He felt silly for himself.

Tentative, he rose a hand; her hair barely tickling it as he brought it to her shoulder, but he immediately retracted it when she spun right around and half-whispered, "I'm sorry."

Clearing her throat, she repeated her apology in a clearer tone. Though her eyes held no tears, she sniffled, and her cheeks were tinted with pink. "I apologize for screaming at you like that. I feel terrible, I don't like doing that."

"No . . . No, it's fine." A bit incredulous at her apologizing first even though he had started it, Sinbad scratched the back of his head. "Seeing how I behaved, it was a necessary action. I'm sorry for forcing you to come with me; I should have payed attention instead of having my excitement take over me." Admittedly, this did further pique his intrigue on the girl's Djinn-capturing exploit. "I'll go find Hinahoho now."

"Sinbad?" her voice sounded after he took three steps, and he pivoted around.

"What is it?"

Emilia held an encouraging smirk. "Go conquer the fluffy puppy."

"'Fluffy puppy?'" Rolling his eyes, an amused half-smile donned his lips.

"You'll see!" Her smirk dropped as soon as the boy disappeared into the white light, and she leant her body against the pillar once again.

For the first time in a little over a week, Mephisto made himself known within the forefront of her mindscape. _Hahaha, 'Fluffy Puppy' was my nickname for Valefor back on Alma Torran!_ he exclaimed with such glee.

Emilia was startled at his unexpected return to her consciousness. _Hey, you. It's been some time._

 _Indeed it has, and I am utterly embarrassed at myself for my mongrel toddler behaviour,_ her usually-haughty Djinn confessed in a respectful yet irritated tone. _I angrily complained about being summoned in an era wherein currently had two people who owned abilities that reminded me of David's, and I had expressed it in such a way that I was blaming you and Yunan for it. Ha, as if the two of you have control over these matters! But you do not and that was quite asinine of me. I must offer my apologies._

 _I forgive you._ Her chest felt a happy warmth. It was an interesting feeling at listening to her Djinn speaking in this humbling sort of way. _I mean, yes, you didn't have to go that far, but I do understand why you had felt that way._

 _As I understand why my little King is unsettled at my uncanny resemblance to David. To put you at ease, I shall inform you that 'Mephistopheles Jehoahaz Abraham' is my full name._

Her eyes widened. Was it in alarm? Was it in eagerness to know more? _You are David's brother, then?_ she surmised.

 _Yes. And no._ He sounded to be in longing, swimming deep into his memories. _Tell me, what do you know of Arba's birth?_

 _Uh . . . David created her . . . I don't know how. Super-advanced magic, I assume?_

 _That is not important,_ Mephisto brushed off curtly, to which Emilia pouted. _But it is satisfying to hear that you are aware of at least a slight modicum of that method of life-creation._

 _David created you, then?_

 _Yes; hundreds of years prior Arba's existence, when he was still young. Unlike that mongrel traitor, however, David created me in his very own image._ A pause. _"Ah, is this what it is like to have a brother? I shan't be lonely anymore, I don't think," was the very first thing he had said to me as soon as I gained a consciousness and became aware of my surroundings and existence._ His voice became firm. _But you need not worry. I am not David . . . At least, I try not to be. It works most of the time._

Inwardly processing this information, the Otherworlder's pupils caught a black Rukh flittering as though it were in a teasing dance. Flapping across her eyes and to the side of her shoulder, it trailed to the Parthevian Empire's robed court magician, who stood a mere ten feet away from her with a shiny golden magician's staff in hand. The entirety of the newcomer's head and body was covered, save for the tips of her fingers that can barely be seen from under the hem of her long and wide sleeves as well as a pair of light grass-green eyes that were framed by long and luxuriously thick dark lashes.

"Your Rukh are exquisite . . . Foreign . . . Odd; somewhat like the Wandering Magi's, but not quite," the mysterious woman murmured gently as she glued her pupils into Emilia's; staring and staring and staring so very fixedly into what felt like her soul akin to a lioness ready to pounce –

"Lady Falan!" a deep voice resonated and Drakon in his military garb stepped beneath the roof of the building, his golden armoured boots procuring quite a bit of noise. "Please, let us not tarry– _you_." He narrowed his yellow-golden eyes in the girl's direction.

Releasing an anxious breath that she had been subconsciously holding, the sight of the dark green-haired boy had Emilia smirking for no reason. From the distance, she discerned little Ja'far and the other two assassins from Sham Lash (whose names she had forgotten) making their way over the bridge and onto the miniature island. "Good day, Lord Dragul of Many Names. You look much better than before."

He did not appreciate how her voice seemed to have an undertone of mockery; and whether it really was mockery, or it was actually a light tease, he cared not. "My Princess told me of you," he said flatly with straightened lips.

"I hope she mentioned the part where I explained multiple times that I'm not a Reiman spy? Or the fact that I've never been to Reim in my entire life thus far?"

Judging by his expression, Drakon seemed like there was quite a bit in which he would like to say. Instead, he settled with: "All foreigners running around in a country at war are suspicious to a certain extent. You could have come quietly and specified your situation in court. You mostly look Reiman, and I believe that the higher officials would have included you in an exchange of prisoners with Reim."

She almost snorted out a laugh. "No. That's what they would publically say, but at least one of them would have used their influence to lock me up. Steal my valuables and maybe give away the items that wouldn't be worth much to them. I most likely would have been made a rape slave, too," she breathed out distastefully.

Hand lazily resting upon the gold pommel of his somewhat slender sword, Drakon's face contorted in shock, revulsion and anger. He clearly had more to express, but he once again kept his response short: "You deign to question the honour of my fellow nobles, especially the higher lords and ladies?" he demanded pompously with a strained expression.

Procuring a faint shrug, a wry smirk claimed Emilia's lips. "Not questioning their honour – I'm denying its' existence until I see proof otherwise."

Signaling the arrival of the assassin trio, a harsh and cruel laugh sounded from Ja'far's mouth, which had tattered white bandages wrapped around it. Black at first glance, the bright sunlight revealed that his irises were just a very, _very_ dark grey, and his short silver-white hair was dirty, shaggy and unkempt. Freckles decorated his cheekbones and his paler skin made him look like more of an albino compared to Emilia. "Ha! Of course you can never trust those rich fucking pigs! Useless wastes of space," he spat with this crazed gleam in eyes that were dulled with murderous intent.

Drakon's lips twitched downwards. "You will do well to watch your words, assassin."

"Shut up! I don't take orders from you. Magician, are we killing this girl? We saw her with that damn Sinbad in your crystal ball."

Biting her lip, Emilia felt a chill uncomfortably stabbing her spinal cord, and her gaze fell on the other two assassins for a moment: They were both tall, but one was even more so with scars along his torso and arms; his body built like a tank. Thick black hair trailed down to just below his buttocks, his eyes were white, and the rest of his face was hidden. The other young man owned a long scar that snaked across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose; and though his body was of slender build, well-toned muscle accentuated it from the long years of working as an assassin. His slanted eyes were a piercing dark red, and his short and messy hair held a unique and rather lovely shade of pale purple.

Daintily, the court magician shook her head at Ja'far's question and spoke in a very soothing voice wherein contrasted with an undertone of absolute command, "No. She is nothing and we mustn't waste any more time."

Drakon gaped. "But she –!"

" _She is nothing, boy_ ," the woman repeated menacingly before proceeding towards the Dungeon's entrance with an exasperated Drakon then speed-walking after her and was immediately followed by a voiceless and eager Ja'far.

"Don't accept anything she gives you," Emilia found herself uttering as soon as the older assassins walked after the group, and the fair-haired man spared her a curious yet blank gander.

"Huh? Whatever."

Supressing the childish desire to stick out her tongue, she released a shaky breath whilst the last of the group was consumed into the entrance's light. _Jeez, how rude. Not like they'll actually consider my warning, anyways . . . Hmm, Falan, Falan, Falan . . . Wait, is this the very same Falan from Alma Torran?_

 _Yes, mongrel, the one and only Falan from Al-Thamen,_ an unimpressed Mephisto seethed.

Not expecting this, she touched an index finger to her lower lip. Falan was not in Solomon's New World during _Labyrinth of Magic_ , so how exactly was she killed and when did it happen? A gasp soon escaped from her mouth when a warm and tender hand abruptly took her wrist and, before long, she was standing upon the snowy cliff that overlooked the island with Valefor's Dungeon. "Yunan!"

 _Hello, Yunan; hello, Yunan,_ her Rukh chirped jubilantly, to which his ethereal spirit birds replied in kind.

"Hello, little one," a peppy Yunan greeted, although there was a solemn glaze within his light blue irises. "Hmm, I should have snatched you away before that Al-Thamen magician approached you. I'm sorry for the wait."

Politely, she waved his apology away, and her prior disgust and queasiness at standing before a Dungeon slowly began to dissipate because such was the nature of Yunan's tranquil and sane presence. "It's alright! Nothing really happened. She still doesn't know anything about my origins."

A ghost of a frown marred the Magi's lips. "Let us hope it stays that way."

She crossed her arms. "I'm sure it will if you don't throw me into the heart of Al-Thamen-controlled territory again," the girl commented with only a mere hint of sardonicism.

"Ah, I must apologize – I thought that I used enough power to have you land in Reim, yet it seemed to have fallen short. But you are alive and well here, and that's all that matters!" he finished cheerily, accompanied with an audaciously playful grin. And then touching her Metal Vessel, a Djinn began to materialize.

Mephisto glowered superciliously towards Yunan. "Must you make a habit of summoning me in disgraceful weather?" he complained. "This cold is too much; my skin will dry up considerably!"

With a wide smirk, Emilia rolled her eyes. "It won't since you're not going to be out here for long, my good diva."

The platinum blond-haired man laughed airily. "But do you not miss this? I remember from a long time ago that you absolutely loved it whenever I had let you free to be able to physically take in all the airs and sights of the world's wonders."

A hint of pleasant surprise flashed across the blue being's handsome face, a small smile threatening to form; and sticking his chin up a little too arrogantly, his pupils focused beyond the mountain-filled horizon. "I thank you for remembering, young one." Shrinking his size down to a mere eight or nine feet in height, he began to float across the snow to indulge his eyes with more sceneries.

"Say, Yunan," Emilia began curiously after a silent minute. "Where are you from? I know you said that you're not really up to sharing much about your personal life for now, but may I at least know where you're from? Is your birth kingdom still around?"

"It is alright, little one." Wistfulness took his countenance and his lips stabilized at neither smile nor frown. "The land still very much exists, but the empire has long faded." After an inaudible sigh, he suddenly turned to her; filled with energy. "Once, there was a young man!"

The girl blinked.

"He hailed from a great empire, one of world's earliest, but he was one day framed for the murder of a nobleman's eldest son. Tragic as he had no proof of his innocence, he managed to flee before he could be imprisoned –"

"What about his family?"

"All had died before then to natural causes. Of the man's friends, only a select few believed that he was not guilty, and so one of them gifted him with a little boat. Taking it, he escaped across the ocean, but was soon caught in a violent and raging storm. He lost consciousness; he thought he had died, but then he later opened his eyes to a completely unfamiliar land filled with different types of people. There was a beautiful young women gazing down at him, for she had been tending to his wounds . . ."

"Wait, is this how your father met your mother for the first time?" Emilia smiled in inkling.

"It is!" he replied cheerily with nostalgia written all over his young face. "The framed man, my father, hailed from the Empire of Babylic. The woman who found him, my mother, came from the neighboring Maledonyan Kingdom, which would soon later become the Empire of Maledonya. I was born there."

Sheer fascination claimed Emilia's spirit. She had known of this 'Empire of Babylic' due to a few historical scrolls that the Magi had kept within his library at his cozy yet somewhat cramped abode. Upon reading said writings a few months ago, she had concluded that the Babylican Empire was _Magi's_ equivalent of the Babylonian Empire. However, this was the very first time that she had heard of an 'Empire of Maledonya' – either Yunan did not own any scrolls or books detailing that civilization, or he did but kept them hidden for no one to read. 'Maledonya' did sound like 'Macedonia,' though . . .

"Well, you have certainly captured my attention," the Otherworlder confessed.

Yunan tittered; his eyes still holding onto a stark yearning. "I am glad! But that shall be it for the time being."

"Yes, that was indeed a fairly intriguing tale," Mephisto commented smoothly with a smirk and raised eyebrows; only just sneaking up behind the duo. He seemed like there was a lot on his mind . . . "Now send me away, Magi! This offensive cold is becoming too distasteful for my great self."

Emilia rolled her eyes with a faint scowl whilst a smirking Yunan dematerialized the demanding Djinn. A few seconds later, her visage softened, and she wrapped her arms around the man's waist and leant the left side of her face against his chest. "Don't look puzzled like that, Nan. You looked like you needed a hug; therefore, I will give you a hug."

With a tender and grateful gaze, Yunan felt at peace. Wrapping an arm around her torso, he wove the slim fingers from his other hand through her light tresses. "I shall return you to the village," he murmured lightly.

A flurry of Rukh twittered; the calming Magi was gone, and Emilia stood before the stairs to the Village Patriarch's house.

Pipirika – who had her back to her and was about to cross the threshold of her home – caught sound of the girl's boots and turned around. Lërynia was settled atop her bright blue head. "You're back! You didn't go inside the Dungeon with them?"

"No; with Sinbad with your brother, they'll be perfectly alright." She sauntered up the stairs. "You don't seem as worried?"

The Imuchakk weakly chuckled. "I was considerably so earlier, but my father talked to me about it, so I feel a lot better now. Mostly."

The faerie's wings flapped happily. "Ne, that's the spirit!"

"It's strange, though . . ."

"Which part?" Emilia queried.

"Sinbad's behaviour. Right before he left, he looked so . . . So resolute and determined and confident about his decision to go help Hinahoho; his eyes were so intense, hard, and it unsettled me for a moment." Eyes sparkling and softly smiling, a pale pink blush tinted Pipirika's cheeks. "It's hard to believe that he's only one year older than me – he's already such a strong man!"

 _Oh my god, she's going through her 'I-have-a-crush-on-Sinbad' phase right now!_ About to laugh, Emilia smacked a hand against her mouth to prevent her from doing as such.

Snapping out of her daze, the Imuchakk narrowed her eyes slightly. "Hey, Emi, why are you smirking like that?!"

"Ohhhh, nothiiiiiiiing," Emilia singsonged mischievously with a casual bounce in her step. A shared glance with a smirking Lërynia told her that the humanoid was thinking the same thing.

"Fine, keep your secrets." Pipirika pouted. "Now let's go swimming. That should clear my mind a little more."

Emilia's heart skipped a beat. "You can swim, Rika, but Lërynia and I will have to sit it out."

"Why– oh." Crossing her arms, Pipirika had nearly forgotten that the girl and the faerie did not have bodies that would be able to tolerate chilly water, like an Imuchakk's body would. "AHA!" she exclaimed so very loudly absent any warming, which had the girl and the faerie recoil back. "Let's go to the hot springs, instead!"

". . . You have hot springs?" the former asked with obvious interest.

"Yes, they are very beautiful hot springs! And then you can tell Lërynia and me another story. I enjoyed that one the other day with the man and those thieves, but I really liked that Morgiana character!"

Emilia only tittered in amusement.

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*** After Note I – I MISSED WRITING YUNAN SO MUCH! *cries a river* Anyways, feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***

*** After Note II – Just some quick notes about the scene with Yunan: Of course, I couldn't resist incorporating a bit of worldbuilding to the more ancient years of Solomon's New World, especially as it pertains to Yunan since I have him as a major character and he has been around for hundreds of years considering that he's currently living his ninth life. So yeah, as it was mentioned in the narrative, I have added the Empire of Maledonya (Macedonia) and the Empire of Babylic (Babylonia) as two of the earliest empires and earlier world superpowers of Solomon's New World. Now, there will undoubtedly be some historical inaccuracies (when you compare them to our earth) that I'll choose to write/not to write and, in true DeLacus fashion, I will be perfectly honest with everyone: I don't care. =D *chuckles* Now I feel bad for sounding like that just now. xD What I mean is that I don't see the point of being _completely_ historically accurate considering that _Magi_ takes place in a **fictional fantasy world** that also just happens to be greatly **inspired** by our earth's history. Besides, not even Ohtaka Shinobu herself is 100% historically accurate with everything and, honestly speaking, why would she want to be? It's a fictional fantasy world, after all, have fun! (~*O*)~ ***

*** After Note III – Sooooo . . . I mentioned that I'm having Babylic be one of Solomon's New World's earliest empires, but I haven't said anything about creating a _Magi_ equivalent to the Sumerian (or Akkadian) Empire or even the Assyrian Empire since they became empires in Mesopotamia before Babylonia had its' turn to become one (although the City of Babylon had already been around for quite a long-ass time). This is because that due to the manner of which Ohtaka had presented Alma Torran, I am basically interpreting its' human civilization up until David's defeat as being a "magic-infested Sumerian Empire," and then Solomon becoming a king up until Al-Thamen pulling their shit as being a "magic-infested Assyrian Empire." But yeah, that's just the way I'm seeing Alma Torran when I'm trying to determine which of Earth's earliest major civilizations it could somewhat be. \\(OwO)/ ***

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	10. Of Past Laments

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those reading, favouring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***

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 **~ 009 – Of Past Laments ~**

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"We are products of our past, but we don't have to be prisoners of it."

~ Rick Warren, _The Purpose Driven Life: What On Earth Am I Here For?_

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Delicate fingers absentmindedly tapping along his magician's staff, Yunan stood nonchalantly atop the pristine white marble bannisters of the balcony overlooking the hustle and bustle of Remano, the capital of the Reiman Empire; humming to himself until a short doll-like figure gracefully and quietly emerged through rich, crimson curtains flanking the entrance of said balcony.

Stepping into the light with her grand golden magician's staff clinking musically, Scheherazade held this shroud of girlish innocence and otherworldly beauty around her, and the Rukh within the vicinity chirped tranquilly and happily. "What are you still doing here?" she queried in her usual calm, gentle voice wherein owned a commanding undertone.

The man pouted. "So mean. Is that any way to greet a fellow Magi, little one?"

The somewhat ancient woman in a girl's body huffed inaudibly. Her stunning, wavy and thick blonde hair rippled all of the way down to her ankles. "Perhaps if you were not as troublesome and eccentric, then I might take you a little more seriously."

He narrowed his eyes slightly akin to a boy watching his favourite pie being eaten right in front of him. "I'm sorry to hear that my charming qualities are offensive to you," he could not help but murmur with an amused smile.

"Banter aside, I am grateful for your care of Muu Alexius. Although I do thank you for returning him to us, I must ask you to leave. There can only be one Magi in Reim, and that is me," she clipped her final sentence icily.

"Protective as ever, I see," Yunan hummed with a seemingly cheery tone, and his fingers finally ceased their light drumming along his staff. "I shan't be long, I promise you that, but I am curious . . . Are still having dreams about one of your, ah, past incarnations?"

"Barely. I've just dreamed a rather vague one last night for the first time in a year." A frown marred Scheherazade's serene face. "Yes, Yunan, I now believe you about the Rukh and this 'incarnation' business – you can wipe that silly smirk off of your face," she said with subtle irritation.

"You sound troubled by them." Chuckling, his pupils calmly swept the light blue sky. "Don't be."

"How can I not be bothered? I dream of them yet they are too vague; I know nothing of what exactly I'm looking at, and I forget most of them upon waking up! Although . . . There is one image that burns within my mind . . ."

Yunan regarded her with curious brows raised. "And which is this?"

Languidly, her eyelids parted, revealing a pair of bright and sparkling crystalline blue irises. "The body I was in sat in the emperor's throne with said emperor dead by my feet and his soldiers and officials cheering with overwhelming relief and victory . . . It was so blurry; I could not understand . . ." She stopped herself from continuing, for she realized that the Wandering Magi's face turned unreadable, as if he was in deep though or he had realized something. Scheherazade continued; her eyes refusing to leave his face for even one millisecond, "How could this be? A Magi is supposed guide his or her chosen king, not overthrow them and become ruler themselves."

His smile was joyless and his voice was soft. "I am sure that she had her reasons –"

"You know her. You know whose life plagues my dreams," the Magi of Reim stated with surety.

Tittering wearily, Yunan shrugged airily. "Ahh, perhaps I do, perhaps I don't. I don't remember much, to be honest; I have lived for quite the long time, after all."

 _A lie,_ the girl thought vehemently. "Who is she?"

He smiled impishly. "And I thought you wanted me to leave? Well, I actually do have to go now. I need to prepare –"

"Yunan, tell me –!"

"Farewell, my Lady!" the bizarre man called out as he leaped into the air and disappeared.

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 _"My little Ja'far, my assassin who has become quite the paragon of us despite being so young,"_ the head of Parthevia's Assassin's Guild, Shaka, started that day with a sickeningly gleeful yet contemptuous and sharp glare within his eyes, _"I am more than pleased with your advancement but I can see within your eyes that you do not wish to complete this test. There is no favouritism found in me – your overwhelming development in your training thus far does not exempt you from anything. All children born to Sham Lash must kill their parents; it is simply the way and I will not tolerate weakness, I will not forgive betrayal. If you will not comply, I shall have no further use of you. Now what will it be? Will you follow commands or shall I now kill you where you stand?"_

Insanity was what it was for the silvery white-haired assassin – well, ex-assassin now – at being consumed by all of that malicious energy and the poor, tragic black Rukh as that odd demonic creature proceeded to form afresh; apparently, that was due to the fact that, according to Falan, he was already teetering on the edge of "being Fallen," whatever the fuck that was. But it was within this beast that he became lost within his subconscious of an icy cold and desolate white wasteland; his despairing and crying self wanting the pain to stop and fighting with his hardened self who pretended not to care, demanding that the former just accept their fate as professional killers and continue on with that life. It was also within his subconscious that those weird bird-like things (in which more so resembled butterflies from far away) showed him snippets of his memories, and he had glanced upon these flashes akin to an audience bearing witness to the performance of mesmerizing thespians.

The grey-black-eyed boy was seven years old when he had found out what "children born to Sham Lash" had really meant because, previously, he could not fathom why any parent would subject their child or children to this life whilst knowing that their offspring would have to eventually murder them: Apparently, this organization was so secretive that not even the majority of the nobility were aware of it, which had meant that these little assassins' commoner parents would obviously have no clear inkling of what they were getting themselves into. Ja'far had found out that Shaka would approach poor parents-to-be made poorer and more desperate by the war and would make deals with them: _"Offer your child to our Empire. Give them the honour and glory of serving His Imperial Majesty. I assure you that they'll be well-taken care of and I will gift you with enough payment to live decently."_

Though there were moments wherein he resented his parents, Ja'far had, strangely enough, never truly despised them. He was not sure if he had ever loved them, either, but he wanted to and he had tried to. Perchance he did and he had not realized it? However, the thing that he was most certainly not confused about was that he did not want his parents to die; he wanted his parents to stop looking so damn sad all of the time, and he wished that if he excelled in his training, then perhaps he would then be able to run away with them. Killing them had been an excruciating blow to the entirety of his existence and what he hated the most about himself regarding that was that he was able to move on almost immediately. Sure, the realization that he himself had killed them stayed within a part of him like a festering wound that would never truly heal, but he was able to compose himself in no time and not dwell on the act further. He _had_ to own that sort of attitude if he was to survive the fetters that were Sham Lash.

Chirping melodically, the Rukh flittered around him lazily, procuring for him yet another memory – one that he held no recollection of and one wherein brought himself with more guilt: His birth, rather, a few days after it from what this snippet of memory looked like. It was highly strange for him to be gazing at something he would naturally hold no remembrance of, but it seemed like his Rukh held recorded reminiscences of his entire life.

" _Children born to Sham Lash . . . Can never leave . . . Unbreakable contract only severed by death . . . Bound to the Assassin's Guild, bound to Shaka, bound to the Parthevian underground; every scrap of your body and even your soul are chained to us . . ._ _ **Unbreakable contract only severed by death.**_ _"_

An animalistic cry resonated out of Ja'far's mouth, and his heightened sense of guilt morphed into a deeper regret whilst the Rukh flashed before him images that would forever stain his consciousness yet simultaneously gifted his chilled heart filled with lies to himself with a peculiar warmth he did not think he deserved: Images of his young father and mother going back on their word in secret; flashes of them hiding his baby self in a woven basket full of tattered cloth and running away with it into the dead of night, only to be caught later by one of Shaka's Assassin Chiefs. It was now no longer a mystery as to why they had regularly looked so remorseful behind their smiling selves whenever he was around and constantly avoiding eye-contact with him as though they had felt unworthy of their offspring's presence; and it was now no wonder that there were always two assassins stationed nearby on guard whenever he was given permission to spend time with his parents.

 _Every inch of them felt disgusted with themselves at Shaka's offer. They never regretted having me, only having me to give to Sham Lash. They tried to escape with me; they actually cared about me more than they showed . . . They actually loved me . . . Fuck it all, how can I doubt them any more now? Thanks for having me hate myself more – I would've been better off not knowing about this at all!_

It was then that the freckled boy became aware of Sinbad's presence; Sinbad, that irritatingly charismatic show-off who was too confident for his own damn good. He had seen Ja'far's heart and his true self hidden within the struggle of the depths of his mindscape; how dare he observe his memories like this?! And how the hell was he able to do it?

Yet, to his shock (and a most grateful shock at that), Sinbad never went the "I understand how you feel" route; rather, he candidly expressed that he could never truly understand every single thing of what Ja'far had gone through his entire life thus far. Sinbad did not care about his past, only the here and now and what the boy secretly desired, what his heart and soul _craved_. Sinbad no longer gazed upon him with eyes of pity as he had done so in that Imuchakk's house, he was staring fixedly at him with a kind determination to _help_ him; to claim him as a comrade and treasured subordinate and stating so resolutely that he would become the boy's new way of life, that he will most certainly offer him a place to belong to and that he would no longer have to lie to himself and suffer in silence.

"Come, Ja'far," the older boy continued. "That is your name, isn't it? Ja'far?" He took both of the younger's small shoulders. "Join me. You said you wanted to, right? Don't let your past define you; don't let it consume you, fight it and grow. Become better. You can do it."

And even though Sinbad could not understand him fully, Ja'far can see, within those warm and sun-like orbs of his, that the youth had most certainly understood sorrow.

It was inexplicable, fathomless, and yet within the deepest crevices of his being, Ja'far's spirit understood; weeping with such profound joy at its' sudden freedom, at the opportunity to be born anew. He abruptly no longer felt locked up; the innate ability to continuously lie to himself and endure such harshness else he would die slowly began to dissipate. He was experiencing what he had been secretly craving his entire life, something he was initially guilty for desiring given his lengthy trail of blood notwithstanding being still only a child, and especially at the fact the he had ended the lives of both his mother and father at only the tender age of six out of desperation to survive.

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I'll now live the way I want. I'll live with the freedom you two tried yet failed to give me._

Daring to feel hope and this want of a better future absent anything related to Sham Lash . . . Ja'far welcomed this wholeheartedly as he stared with glimmering eyes and his lips half-parted right into the pupils of the boy who had just saved him, and not only him, but his close and older companions – twenty-three-year-old Mahad and seventeen-year-old Vittel – as well.

Joining or being birthed into Sham Lash was an unbreakable contract wherein one can only be freed from if they died? Ha! Ja'far and his two assassins had just discovered another way out, a way that will give them better lives and to help heal their bodies, minds and souls over time. The thought of soon being able to truly experience life's joys away from Sham Lash brought Ja'far with an excitement he had never felt before.

And so the Rukh dispersed; he felt Sinbad's hand still grasped around his arm; and through half-lidded eyes, he discerned his worried companions, that golden rich boy, the giant man with the red horn-spear, the dog-resembling Djinn, and an exhausted and smiling Sinbad.

And for the first time in his life, the little ex-assassin willingly bowed before a person whom he would gladly call "King."

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***

*** After Note II – Not gonna lie, delving into Ja'far's past brought me to a dark place. Poor kid. *gives Ja'far 100 hugs* :'( Aaaaaand regarding the scene between the two old-as-fuck Magi: I intend to explore more of the reincarnation element that I've decided to play around with for this story later on. ***

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 **Guest:** Glad to hear it! And hehehe, yeah, it's so fun writing their interactions. xD Thanks very much and have a great week~ :D

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